


Falling in the Falls

by Reservation_Red



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, Other, Ymir-Centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5840257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reservation_Red/pseuds/Reservation_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir has a skeleton in her closet and it's threatening to come out the moment she meets the charming and troubled Historia Reiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaniJayNel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/gifts).



**(Art made by Mikoto)**

  
**[ Lisa Baby by Walk The Moon  
**   
**Grandloves (feat. Young Magic) by Purity Ring]**

"Do you wish to hear about your treatment options?"

_Treatment._

"No."  
.

.

.

"Sash, move it," I shoved my foot perfectly right into Sasha's bare ass.

"Ah! No!" Sasha laughed and squealed, hopping up, covering her bum, and glancing back with a grin.

"When is Connie's birthday?" I reached over to the side table, picking up a pack of cigarettes and throwing it at Sasha.

"Hey, thanks!" She picked it up, winking, and dressed in front of me, lingering a bit at certain points, making me snort and roll my eyes.

"Are you going to finally ask him out?" I stretched, popping my ankles, and sitting up at the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of my neck.

It had been a couple of months since Sasha came crawling into my bed after a trip to the local bar. Since then the cheeky little thing would make it a habit to come over no matter what time for a little fun.

Though, I felt confident enough to say that we were pretty good friends. There was nothing beyond using each other to satisfy raw needs.

"Hm," Sasha put a finger to her lips, "I don't know… I don't want to ruin our friendship if he says no…"

"Oh? And our friendship was worth ruining?"

"Oh! Ymir!" She threw a shirt at me as I got up, dressing.

The late winter was beginning to melt outside a little, but it'd be sometime before it stopped getting dark early.

"You know that was not it—I told you and I will say it again," she stuck her tongue out, "I knew you were horny that night and you were eyeing me."

Hm.

She had a point for once.

"I guess so." I slipped on a comfortable sweater.

If I could have it my way, I'd just sleep and arrive late, but Sasha was hell-bent on trying to get Connie to ask her out.

I clicked my tongue.

"I still think you should just ask him out."

In a way I felt something tug at my heart. Seeing how Sasha was going to let Connie have the pleasure of asking her out properly.

When was the last time a girl ever asked me out?

A guy?

It never happened.

I was always the one to do the asking—always given that role of being the 'man' of the situation. Even in bed.

Hm.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, straightening out my shirt, and staring.

I was tall.

I had a bit of muscle and some would say a natural handsomeness.

"You look good! Don't worry!" Sasha clung to my side, grinning.

"Also! I made sure Connie would ask his guy friends to invite a lot of girls!" Sasha put up a peace sign, winking.

What a dweeb.

"You're giving him mixed signals."

"Huh?"

"You want him to ask you out but you ask for him to invite a lot of girls…and when we drink you always come home with me despite him offering a ride home…"

"What!?" Sasha barked, holding her face in realization.

"Yeah. He probably thinks you don't like him."

"No! Oh God! How long has—Ymir! Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" She deflated against the bed and I chuckled.

"C'mon. Don't want to be late arriving together. Might give him more mixed signals."

"Oh my God! Let's go! Let's go!"

Sasha dragged me out of my studio and down to the main floor of the Broadmoor apartment complex.

She practically shoved me into her car and we were driving to Downtown Spokane to some sort of bar. It wasn't the usual one I went to but whatever.

Sasha always made sure to buy me a few drinks anyways. Too poor to even get drunk on my own.

It took some time to even get there because of the Friday night traffic and by the time we found a parking spot the bar was packed and we did end up late.

"Oh no! How do I look?" Sasha asked, holding my face and staring intently.

"You look…like yourself."

Sasha squawked in dismay.

"You're no help!"

"Sash! There you are!" Connie was waiting outside the bar, grinning with his usual friends—Jean and Armin.

"Hey!" She slapped out of her sadness and ran over to hug him.

We all went to high school together and I remembered when Connie was a little guy, but now he shot up a bit.

Not taller than me but he was taller than Sasha at least.

"Happy birthday!" Sasha squealed and I nodded, walking past her and into the bar, giving the space they needed.

If I lingered too long Connie might get the wrong idea even then.

Hah.

"Don't know why she won't even ask him out herself," I muttered, glancing around and seeing familiar faces.

I scanned the room and then stopped when I spotted a cute blonde.

I grinned, adjusting my collar and walking over to sit on the opposite side of the booth of her.

"Mind?" I asked because she seemed annoyed.

"Not at all," she was drinking some dark malt and I was about to order until Sasha and Connie came crashing beside me, laughing and forcing me to scoot over.

Fuck.

The blonde's icy gaze intensified for a moment.

"Oh! Annie! This is Ymir!" Connie introduced and then Annie's eyes widened.

"So that's the infamous lesbian."

"What!?" I barked, caught off guard.

Suddenly even Annie was bulldozed over by Jean and Eren and Armin and then Mikasa.

"Fuck, it's too crowded," I complained but everyone was giggling about so I let it slide. I ran a hand through my hair as my foot began to bounce.

"So, what're we going to get!?" Connie pulled out his wallet.

"Oh, no, no! I got it!" Sasha slapped his wallet back and pulled out hers.

Slick move there.

Connie only grinned.

"Alright!"

Sasha flagged down a server as Jean grinned, leaning back.

"So, last time, I scored with this really hot freckled guy."

"Oh? Is his name Marco?" Armin asked.

"What?! How did—"

"We volunteer at the shelter together! He's really cute, isn't he? Especially his butt."

"What!? Are you saying you fucked him, too!?"

"Nope," Armin smiled, "he had his eyes on you for a long time! Did he give you his number?"

"Wha—um, yeah," Jean blushed a bit and Eren rolled his eyes, bored of the conversation.

"What about you Ymir? Any new conquests?" Jean was leaning forward.

It was always a thing between us to talk about who we banged and if it was any good. It was really the only bonding we got… hah. Not really.

We talked about deep shit but it embarrassed us to no end so talking about sex softened the reality of things.

"I don't kiss and tell," I told him because my eyes were set on the girl named Annie beside me.

She simply blinked at me and drank some more.

Oh. Ice queen.

"Pfft," Jean shrugged, "whatever, man."

He was letting it go until he saw where my eyes were.

He snapped back up with a slick smirk.

"Was it a guy this time?"

"What? No." I spat, glaring, because that was the normal reaction to make.

Everyone in the group stared at Jean and laughed.

I forgot to.

"Baha! Ymir with a guy? You got to be joking!" Connie snorted and Sasha was cracking up as he pulled her closer.

"She's as lesbian as they get!"

Even Annie seemed to crack a smile.

"And what about you Annie?" Jean was anything but subtle as I felt disgusted in my stomach.

My foot wouldn't stop going and I was beginning to fidget.

I hated being stuck in close quarters with people like this.

"Am I lesbian?" She clarified and Jean nodded.

"Hopefully not," he winked and I could barely handle being stuck in the middle like this.

"No… I'm not into guys or girls." She blatantly said and took another swig.

"What!?" Jean was blown out of the park.

"Move, I need to go to the bathroom," I shoved Connie and Sasha.

"Oh no! Ymir, don't go! I didn't mean to ruin you game!" Jean was laughing more, still surprised by the blonde's answer.

I was able to finally get out and the group let me leave without another word. I went outside, cursing that I didn't grab Sasha's cigarettes, but the cold air was almost just as good.

I cracked my knuckles, glancing at the nearby people who were smoking.

I could always bum a cigarette, but—fuck—I'd have to talk to people then.

I brought my coat closer to me, regretting I didn't get something warmer when I went shopping at Value Village.

Somehow, some fucking way, I heard Jean's stupid laugh inside and it just pissed me off.

The fucking useless—whatever.

I didn't want to deal with this shit.

Across Riverfront park was a bar I knew.

It also might've been a favorite place where one of my fuck buddies often went to. If I could get them with me they'd give me a ride back home.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, walking down the sidewalk as people were howling and giggling like the drunks they were. A few bums littered the street here and there, reminding me that the only reason I wasn't out there with them was classes and financial aid that paid for a hefty deal of instant noodles.

I blew hot air in front of me just to come and go. Something to bide time with.

It took a couple of minutes but I was down in the park, glaring at anyone who got too close. A few filthy people here and there came up, begging for change, but a glare made them turn their cheek, wandering to the next passerby.

It was so fucking stupidly cold.

The damn park still had its Christmas lights everywhere.

Fuck.

I stopped, shivering and glancing around. To the right was just the park itself that led to the skating rink and to the left was the side with two bridges directly above the falls.

Now, where exactly was the bar?

Was it this far up or further down the park?

Fuck, all I remember was two bridges… Ah.

"Right," I went to the left, nearly stumbling on my own damn feet.

Jesus Christ.

I wasn't even drunk.

I didn't even get time to get drunk.

God.

What a shitty night.

Turning around seemed pointless. I couldn't be bothered to stick around with Jean being the ass face he was. No amount of beer could drown out his fucking trap.

I was nearing the second bridge when a man went by, sneering a bit.

I gave him a glare but not a response. Fucking creeps out in the park late at night—didn't want to get shanked.

But, then again, if I did… my college tuition would be paid…

"Tch."

I stomped on the bridge because I liked to pretend the support system would collapse and I would fall in and die.

Morbid, maybe, but there wasn't much here anyways.

Just beer and girls.

A pathetic existence—

"Ah." I heard a small gasp and I peered up.

Under the gentle glow of yellow and white lights was a petite blonde.

Fuck, she was super pretty.

I felt myself freeze in my spot, wondering why someone like her was out here so late.

Didn't this creep come from this way?

The damn girl needed to be more careful.

Carefully—as if her own smile would cut her open—she gave a little stomp on the bridge like how I was doing just a moment ago.

I blinked as her smile somehow got deeper, sadder, and so much more at the same time. It was like watching a shiny coin go deep into the well water—blinking once. Twice. And then gone.

She reminded me of childhood—not the sense that people knew but—fuck.

She had the feeling of childhood. Like the love you had for the mundane and the silly notions that went with holidays, the sweet ignorance of believing in magic and that money was just an evil thing that kept your parents away.

She made me feel childhood right in my heart with that smile.

I never met her but I was nostalgic for her—I yearned for her voice and smile as if it was mine all along. Just lost.

"Hey," I kicked up enough courage to approach her, trying to smile, but fuck my teeth chattered.

Her eyes sparkled like stars and snowflakes as she peered over at me. They were glossy—crying, maybe.

It'd make sense, I suppose—for her to be crying that is.

She was alone on a cold winter night in the middle of the park, standing above the falls.

If I had to cry…or potentially die…I'd come here, too.

She cleared her throat.

"Hey," she tucked her hair behind a rosy ear.

Ah. She wasn't wearing much, either—a light coat and a skirt.

"Cold?"

_Wow, Ymir. So smooth._

"Not really," she said but her bare legs were shaking.

"You look cold." I stiffened up a bit as I stood closer to her.

She glimpsed up at me with such surprise. Like I had given her perspective of something she couldn't comprehend.

God.

What was this at all?

I was going to speak again because this silence was saying too much about me—that I was lingering for her sake, that suddenly going home and or wherever wasn't as important as now, and just—Yeah. Just yeah.

Then she smiled but it was sweet and soft like vanilla ice cream on summer days.

Fuck.

She was a goddamn beautiful girl.

"We're both cold," she held her hands up to her mouth, trying to warm them.

Ah.

She had such tiny and delicate hands—the fingertips were red.

Just like a porcelain Christmas angel with rosy cheeks.

"Yeah, well," I shrugged off my jacket, revealing myself to the true bitterness of the night, "one of us won't have to be."

I put it on her, dismissing my own redness to the cold.

She stared and then she laughed. It filled the rocky gulch of the falls and my heart, echoing in my ears.

Lovingly.

"You're going to freeze!" She held onto my coat, turning towards me finally, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Not at all," I feigned but it was really freezing cold.

She was so cute as she lightly leaned forward, mocking my eyebrow.

It was so cold we both had tears in our eyes—my nose was beginning to sniffle.

"Your coat won't keep me too warm. I have a skirt," she motioned.

She even turned a bit.

That lump in my throat was beginning to ruin my flow. I found that I couldn't even come with a defensive retort as to why she deserved my coat.

"Fine," I croaked, bringing my hands out, taking hers.

She deserved my hands, too, then.

She didn't even protest.

Did she…?

"Here, you really suck at keeping yourself warm," I grumbled, brushing it off as worry as I rubbed her hands briskly.

"Oh, you're right," she watched my hands as I tried to warm her up.

"I'm starting to feel warm already," she smiled and, again, she stole a few beats out of my heart.

"Um, though, I think we'd get warmer somewhere else…" I didn't even know her name and she was laying the moves on me?

Damn.

I guess I would get a cute blonde regardless tonight.

"Yeah?" I stopped.

Just holding her burning hot hands in mine.

"Yeah, there's a coffee shop not too far…It's open late."

Oh.

She—Hm.

"U-Unless, you'd rather not…It's late and all."

Shit.

She must've saw my surprise or something.

"No, that's fine—um, yeah, definitely…my treat."

Goodbye bank.

Hello Goddess.

"My name is Historia…Historia Reiss."

"Ymir."

"Just Ymir?"

"My last name is a bit of a mouthful."

"Oh. Okay." She paused, taking her hands away from me.

I watched her raise a sole finger up to my nose, pressing on it lightly.

I frowned, a bit cross-eyed.

"Hello, Ymir Mouthful. I'm Historia."

Did she just fucking—

She laughed so beautifully I just snorted, knocking her hand away.

Stupid girl.


	2. It's Just A Word

"So, why were you on the bridge?" I was swirling my coffee around, giving her my undivided attention, because she was super pretty and I wanted her to know she'd always get my attention.

The coffee shop was surprisingly full at eight at night with people going up and off the stage, reciting poetry. It was almost a laughable hipster place.

"My boyfriend asked me to go there," she smiled and it looked like cloth snared on a thorn.

I remembered a guy pushing past—big brute of a man, pissed off and rude.

That had to be her boyfriend.

Damn gorilla.

"Ex-boyfriend?"

She blinked once and then gazed down at her vanilla latte.

"Heh. Yeah."

I smiled.

At least he was out of the way.

"What did he do?" I took a swig of my black coffee, refraining from wincing at the bitterness.

I really did kind of hate coffee… too bitter for my taste.

"Nothing." She replied, clearing her throat, uncomfortable.

"Don't sweat it. A girl like you can get anyone," I winked to show that I was up for grabs, too, but her smile was so—God.

Why was I laying on all my cheap moves on her? She—damn. She deserved flowers and poetry and… breakfast or something.

She deserved my…she deserved my honest self…courting and stuff…

Oh no.

This was a crush, wasn't it?

I popped my knuckles.

"No, it's okay," she bulked up a bit, "he left because… I kept saying no to sex…"

Go figure. Damn thirsty gorilla needed to go back to the zoo and drown in his water trough.

I didn't even want to imagine the idea of the brute trying to force her, but from what I could tell I saw no bruises on her fair skin.

Ah.

It was really soft to touch when I held her hands…

"Good for you," I smiled, genuine, "it's good to stand your ground."

Her eyes lit up and I couldn't help but stare as she was giddy, holding her warm cup to herself.

"Th-Thank you."

I didn't want to think it but I felt like not many people approved of her living her life how she wanted it.

My leg was bouncing like wildfire underneath the table.

Though, I knew the feeling sometimes…

"So, Historia—"

"So, Mouthful…"

I gave her a playful sneer. I wringed my hands together—my palms were so damn sweaty. Chill.

"Is there a number I can get with your name?" I asked, fishing out my phone already.

Historia watched and then glanced up at me, smiling something slow and sweet.

"I take it," she licked her lips—oh, that was kind of hot. Did she do that on purpose?— "that you are hitting on me?"

Oh.

My smile turned toothy as I leaned back, quite pleased with her not even hitting around the bush.

"I am. I won't luh-ayy—" I stopped.

My voice fucking squeaked.

Her eyes widened.

And she covered her mouth—eyes crinkling at the corners, cheeks rosy with humor as her eyes were twinkling.

"I—" I fucking blew it.

I was so fucking nervous—my leg was practically jackhammering a hole in the ground, my knuckles were beginning to hurt from all the popping, and I could stop world thirst with my palms.

"You're so cute!" She giggled, covering her whole face and I couldn't even tell if she was mocking me.

"…You think I'm cute?" It sent my whole face burning.

Cute?

I was never called cute.

It was…very…nice…

I itched the side of my cheek, glancing away.

"Yes," she pulled her hands from her face, looking at me as if I was a fluffy puppy, "here, let me put it in your phone."

God, I was just being steam-rolled by her. She was just so—so charismatic?

Or was I just a fucking stupid nerd?

I couldn't tell at all as I just dumbly gaped and watch her put her number in, grinning like a stupid idiot.

"There," she held my phone up for me to see.

 _Historia_ with a little heart by it.

A heart?

So soon!?

"Your coffee is going to get cold…or do you not like it?" She asked, giving me time to cool down as I glanced down.

I nervously chuckled.

"I…actually don't like coffee…"

"What? Really? Ah, we could've went somewhere else…"

"Oh, no, it's okay. This place is okay."

"Let me guess, you don't really care for poetry, either?"

"Uh—" I laughed some more.

"Oh no," she snickered, not even discouraged, "I'm so sorry. Next time, alright?"

Oh.

There was a next time, too.

Wow.

"What do you not like about coffee?" She asked, drinking hers again.

"It's really bitter…"

"Oh. Not all coffee is like that! Here, try mine," she offered and if it was anyone else I would've declined, because the idea of sharing drinks was…gross.

But…not so much with her.

"Okay," I leaned forward, taking the straw into my mouth and sucking a little. I looked over at her, seeing her with that sweet as pie smile, head propped on her hand. She seemed so pleased.

In the same second, the coffee came up and I was expecting a bitter taste, but it was actually rather okay.

"See? You can sweeten your coffee by adding flavors and whip cream."

I blinked.

"My family only drank it black." I thought all coffee would just taste the same.

"Oh God…you poor soul." She brought that same straw into her lips and I saw the liquid go right up into her mouth.

Fuck. I was just a schoolgirl around her.

What was she doing to me?

**-x-x-x-**

"C'mon, Ymir!" Sasha was dragging me to the stupid LGBTQ club she frequented.

Personally, I didn't like clubs and found it to be a waste of time between classes.

I sighed, walking in with her and finding people heatedly debating something.

I frowned.

"Nah, I'd rather not." I told her, stopping at the door.

She didn't protest as she listened.

"—bisexual girls are just fucking attention-whores! They go to men in the end anyways!" One of the girls were crying in outrage with bitter tears going down her face.

Oh, great.

"…She was just a cheating whore. They're attracted to practically everyone so they are more prone…" Someone else agreed.

I glanced at Sasha who was bristling.

"Calm down, little bisexual," I whispered to her, patting her back as I began to back out, expecting for her to follow but she stomped into the room, dragging me.

"Just because one person cheats doesn't mean everyone who is bisexual are cheaters!" Sasha defended.

The other girl narrowed her eyes.

"I just found out I've been cheated on! I don't need this shit!"

"Yes, but you can't believe bisexuals will eventually cheat or turn straight!"

"They have it easy! Being a lesbian too hard? They turn straight again!"

"It doesn't work that way!" Sasha retorted, growing angrier by the second.

"Hey, hey, knock it off," I stepped in, sighing and got dirty looks from others.

"Cheating is shitty…and isn't a trait of any of sexualities or whatever…so don't blame bisexuals. Your ex was just a shitty bitch."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" She shrieked and I saw Sasha give a dirty look to me.

Yeah.

I wasn't known to be eloquent with my words, but I was getting just as irritated.

"Bisexuals don't go 'lesbian' or 'straight'. They're just…what they are…"

"Whatever! She said she fucking loved me and then left me for a guy after I found them fucking! I dated another and the same thing happened! It ain't a fucking coincidence, you dyke!"

 _Dyke_.

Hah.

"You just have terrible taste in people then, or people are cheating on you for a reason. I can see why now." I smiled and the girl jumped down from her seat on a desk, ready to try and throw me down.

"YMIR! YOU GODDAMN DICK!" Sasha cried, pressing herself in front of me, trying to shove me out of the club.

"WE NEED TO CALM DOWN!" The club leader finally spoke up as he was holding back the other girl.

"Go, go, go!" Sasha ordered as she pushed me out of the room and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the scene.

We exited the building and went to the cafeteria, sitting in a corner near a window.

"God! You always have to say the meanest things," Sasha groaned, planting her face on the table.

I cracked my knuckles.

"I didn't like how she was blaming people like that. It was fucking stupid." I always spoke my mind.

Always…

Most of the time, anyways.

I glanced at Sasha who was peering up, grateful.

"Thanks for sticking up for me…"

"Yeah," I rubbed my eyes.

It was for her.

Right.

Yeah.

"She was a narrow-minded dickhead anyways." I muttered.

"If it wasn't one thing discriminating against her then it was another."

It was tiring. I couldn't see how people could nitpick life, trying to find why they didn't get to do this or that and label it was discrimination.

"Oh, don't say that," Sasha gently slapped my arm.

I still felt fucking irritated.

They didn't turn straight or lesbian.

They just _were_.

How hard was that to understand?

Not like I would know. I only ever been with women and men were just…

Yeah.

Men were fucking men.

Nothing to worry about at all.

"Are you hungry?" Sasha asked.

"Not really."

Silence ensued between us as she stared at me longer and longer, eyes glowing brighter and brighter with unshed tears.

"What?" I asked, wondering why she was doing that.

"…Are you hungry now?"

"Did you forget your lunch money, _again_?"

Big puppy eyes.

"Ugh. Fine. Yeah. I guess I can go for a slice of pizza or something. Hurry up."

I didn't have the money to splurge but I'd make sure Sasha didn't get too hungry. She could never concentrate or get work done if she did.

I didn't want her grades to drop or anything.

_Attention-whores—_

Ugh.


	3. Sucker Punch with a Side of Tacos

It didn't look right.

I adjusted.

It was strange, wasn't it?

Ugh.

I unbuttoned another.

Did it even look right?

"Sasha!" I called for her, knowing she was in the bathroom, freshening up for her date with Connie. Apparently the guy finally grew some and asked her out.

Good for her.

However, she still pranced about my place like it was hers. Minus the sex.

"Hm?" Sasha had her toothbrush in her mouth, glancing at me.

"I—Sasha…spit that shit out first." I sighed and she nodded earnestly, darting away followed by a splat of toothpaste regurgitation, and came back with a grin.

"You look good!" She planted herself next to me, holding my side and swinging about.

God. She was a child.

"Are you saying that to be nice? Fuck, how many buttons should I unbutton? I don't want her to think—"

"Wowzers," Sasha exclaimed, "she got you hooked, doesn't she?"

"Sasha, you're not helping."

"Hm… Here." Sasha went to my button-up and loosened another one, rolling up my sleeves and buttoning it there.

"Want to show off those sweet guns now. I can say for a fact that she'll want to see your arms…I think they're nice anyways." She stuck her tongue out.

"Thanks," I glanced back at the mirror and I still didn't even feel half-way ready.

"You guys are going ice skating, right?" Sasha asked, staring at me from the mirror.

"Yeah."

I would only be able to afford this one date—not even covering Historia—and I'd be officially broke.

"Here," Sasha seemed to know, whipping out a twenty, "have this."

"What? Whoa. No. Keep it. I'm not your charity case." I shoved her hand back to herself.

"No! I said take it! You pay for so much of my stuff—let me cover you for once."

"Sasha, please, I don't need—"

"Says the poor HUD rat surviving on ramen and kool-aid!"

I couldn't even dispute that.

"So, here!" Sasha slapped the bill into my hand.

I felt a lopsided smirked come on my face.

"You sure you don't want to stick it into my underwear? I can dance for you. Here, sit down, I will give you a lap da—"

"Ymir! God!" Sasha was laughing as I was walking backwards, sticking my butt at her.

"Stop!" She was near tears as she fell onto the bed and I sat square in her lap.

"Twenty will get you a paddlin'."

"You dork! God!" Sasha slapped my back and I got up, snickering.

"Thanks, Sash."

"Yeah, yeah, but no paddlin' anymore! I'm a taken woman if tonight goes right!" Sasha sighed dreamily.

"Maybe Connie can do it for you." I clicked my tongue, humored.

"Oh God! He's such a sweetie, Ymir, I don't think he even knows how to be mean to women even if he tried! Just the other day, he sent me roses at school with the letter asking for a date—"

"Classy man," I remarked, making Sasha blush further.

"Ah. Just ah." Sasha held her cheeks, dreaming no doubtingly of what else laid in store for her.

"Either way, hurry up—I'm already done," I told her, glancing at my phone and its time. We only had forty-three minutes.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry," she waved me off.

Ugh.

This was going to give me a hernia with all the fucking stress and nervousness.

What would Historia be wearing?

She was always so cute even though I just met her twice.

What if she hates ice skating?

Ugh. It was making my head swim.

.

.

.

"Hey," I jogged up ahead to stand in front of Historia.

She was the epitome of beauty. She was—Wow.

Historia was wearing a red flannel—gay alert—and some jeans.

I mean…it was casual but damn. I approved.

"Is this the Historia Ymir won't shut u—MMf!" Sasha's mouth was covered by Connie as he laughed.

"It's good to meet you!" Connie smoothed it over for me.

"It's good to meet you, too," she smiled brightly as I was grinning back. Which was very fucking stupid because Sasha and Connie were giggling away like mischievous kids.

I would've kicked them if Historia didn't grab my hand then and there.

"Let's go! I haven't been ice skating since I was in high school." She tugged me along to the rink and its tall tower of lights.

"Yeah, c'mon," Connie brought Sasha with him, giggling and racing along as Historia and I walked behind.

"They're a cute couple," Historia mentioned, never taking my hand away.

"Hm. Yeah."

"Are you and Sasha-?—close?" Historia drawled her voice along, hoping that she remembered Sasha's name right.

"Yeah, her name is Sasha—we've known each other since we were kids. Grew up in same place."

"Oh, childhood friends, that must be so nice," Historia drew a bit closer as we finally reached out destination.

The two were already renting their skates as we got in line behind them.

"I haven't skated…in a very long time. I'm probably going to slip," I admitted, hoping Historia would let me off the hook for being less than charming.

"Really? Like, how long?"

"Um…five years…?"

"Oh, wow. I haven't been here since my Senior year of high school."

"How long ago was that?"

"Two years."

"Oh, so you're twenty."

"Yeah. And you're…?"

"Twenty-one."

The age difference wasn't even bad.

I paid for me and Historia's ice skates—receiving a thumbs up from Sasha as her and Connie hit the ice with the small groups of couples, families, and gaggle of friends.

"It's okay," Historia smiled, sitting us down at the bench and putting on and lacing her skates.

She had such dinky feet!

"Wow, your feet are so tiny." I stated the obvious and she glanced at mine.

"And yours are big." She chuckled at my statement, retorting.

"If I was a guy, I don't think that'd be a problem," I waggled my eyebrows and she snorted, pushing my face away as I playfully kissed one of her fingertips.

Her whole face went red and her hands shook as they shot down, miserably trying to tie her skates.

Good.

She couldn't get the upper-hand now.

"Here, lemme help." I got down on my knee in front of her—winking at the playful gesture—and went to tying her skates on for her.

"T-Thanks." She muttered.

I got back up, hurriedly getting mine on and cursing at how narrow the damn things were.

"Hurry up, slowpokes!" Sasha and Connie had already made a lap around the place.

Though, it was mostly Sasha as Connie was slipping and sliding everywhere, clinging to her in nervous fear of falling.

"I bet you'll do better than Connie," Historia grabbed my hand, helping pull me up and we were off on the uncertain world of what was stupid ice skating.

She glided across the ice as if this was second-nature. My knees wobbled and my body felt as if I was being hurtled through a dimension I should've never even tried to venture in.

"Like this," she showed me slowly, skating across—her flaxen hair flowing, crowning her face like an angel.

"Yeah," I mimicked her and soon we lapped once without problem.

"See? Your body remembers," she let go of my hand to flourish in front of me.

"What?" I laughed, surprised.

"Are you a Pro?"

She giggled, coming back to me, holding my hand and leaning her head against my shoulder.

"Nope. My body just remembers old lessons."

Yeah.

My body was remembering what it was to have a helpless, loser crush on a girl now. The real anxiety of doing the wrong thing, the hot air balloon of hopes, dreams, and really, really gay thoughts.

My body was remembering her.

"So, um," I cleared my throat because holy shit she was actually leaning against me and showing she liked me, "I was wondering if you'd like to hang out again sometime—just us—"

She looked up as we were slowing down a bit.

"Of course. I know I already love hanging out with you."

Aim and fire and bullseye right on my puny heart.

Historia gasped and then laughed as a quick breeze went by us.

"Sasha! Be careful!" I gawked because she had raced too close to us for my comfort.

"AH!"

I only had a moment to glance to see Connie slipping and failing and crashing right into Historia.

All I saw was a tangle of limbs, a pair of ice skates going skyward, a loud groan, and two bodies hitting the ice.

Fucking hard.

"Oh God! I'm so sorry!" Connie cried out.

Sasha was dying from laughter as I shot over to Historia, grabbing her foot so she'd stop sliding slowly on the ice, but the damage was done.

Historia had bitter fucking tears in her eyes, curling in on herself, and gasping for breath as if the wind was knocked out of her.

"F-Fuck," was the quiet curse from her mouth.

"I—I'm so sorry!" Connie gaped, freaking out.

So I did what any sensible date would do—punch him right in the jaw.

.

.

.

"Historia, are you okay?" I asked, again, because she was still hunched over on herself.

An ice pack firmly pressed against her lower stomach where she was elbowed.

Connie was on the bench next to us with an ice pack, too, and a bruise forming on his jaw. Sasha was petting his head, trying to comfort him.

"I—I…y-yeah." She didn't cry once but I could see the unshed tears in her eyes.

Jesus fuck!

My first date with a girl I was really into and Connie just fucking obliterated her in a head-to-head collision.

"Look, I'm sorry," I tried to remedy since she finally was talking, "the little bastard can't control himself."

"Ymir!" Sasha scolded.

"Fine. The fucking little monkey is stupid." I corrected myself.

Historia winced but there was a slight smile.

"Yeah," Connie leaned forward to get a better look at Historia, "I'm sorry—I thought—look, I'm sorry I elbowed your stomach…and made you lose your breath…"

"It's fine," she said and tried to smile brighter, but she looked miserable.

"I just…feel really sick…"

"Ugh." I ran a hand over my face and then through my hair.

"I'm so sorry." I wish that I could've made it better, but I didn't have a time machine to strangle Connie before it all happened.

"I-It's okay," she leaned against me a little and I could see her ragged breath run over my body, "It's not your fault, Ymir."

It didn't make me feel any better but I hugged her, putting my chin on top of her head, and rubbing her back gently.

"Still," I grumbled, glaring over at Connie who was practically being reduced to a self-pitying, shameful turd.

"Did you drive here, Historia?" I asked.

She gave the saddest little nod.

"Here, I will drive you home. I can get a ride from the bus."

"But it's so late," she tried her best to protest but she was so—augh. Connie, you bastard.

"It's fine." I didn't want her to drive in this condition.

"It's really okay, Ymir," she pulled away a bit to stand, looking sick for only a moment.

"I can drive. Really."

"No, no—I will drive you. We're heading out. See you guys later," I gave Connie once last glare and flipped him off before we left.

We didn't get too far when I noticed Historia was lagging behind a bit with a limp.

Jesus Christ. Did his potato head really do that much damage with his elbow?

"Let me carry you," I demanded and she didn't protest. I let her get on my back and I walked us to the parking complex as she merely relaxed.

"Thanks, Ymir…"

"No problem. Don't worry about it." I ushered her to the passenger side of her car as she closed her eyes.

Her apartment wasn't even far away.

Fuck.

It was at the goddamn Riverfalls Tower!

I gawked as we pulled up.

"Thanks, Ymir," she looked quite a bit better but I didn't even—I knew she went to Gonzaga but—

Historia was fucking loaded.

She got out, opening the gate to the parking, and got back in as we parked.

I kept glancing around, stunned.

Compared to my shitty apartment that always smelled of weed and Dorito feet, this was top notch luxury.

"Are you going to be fine going up to your apartment…?" I asked because while she did look a lot better she still seemed a bit troubled.

"Ah, yeah, but I was hoping…you'd stick around? My guest room is always open."

Was this an invitation for sex?

Oh God.

I don't even know if I was ready—

Shit.

Um.

"Yeah, sure," yeah, yeah, Ymir, play it cool. You're super cool.

Let's go, Ymir.

I walked by her as we went to the elevator.

I remember looking at this apartment with Sasha, thinking we could share one when we first came out for college, but the studio was super expensive.

Everything was overpriced.

I swallowed the lump in my throat when—Holy fuck.

She went to the top goddamn floor.

Oh God.

She was super fucking rich, wasn't she?

Either she was a successful college student or daddy had a fat wallet.

It took awhile for us to even reach the top floor and when we got there and went to her apartment, she had a huge-ass floor plan with a beautiful view.

I nearly fell to my knees, staring out the large glass windows at Downtown Spokane.

The place was top notch with even high quality furniture as she sighed, throwing her keys into the key bowl and walking down to her living room, flopping herself on her couch, absolutely ignoring the grandeur of her living status.

"Thanks, Ymir," she murmured, rubbing her tummy slowly.

"N-No problem! But—uh, you sell drugs?"

"What?" She shot me a strange look.

"Because how the fuck—you live in the best apartments here!"

She glanced around as if I noticed something odd.

"Hm…I suppose…" She murmured.

"My father pays for my education and living."

"Oh God! Does he live in a mansion?"

"Ah, I don't know." She muttered, tired looking, staring out at the city skyline.

I felt something off at her response so I didn't press further as I finally followed her, finding everything perfect and amazing and—wow, God, what a wonderful life she must live.

"I don't see him often. He just drops in once and awhile to visit and leaves. He has a place in New York."

God.

She stood up, rubbing her eyes, and looking at the kitchen.

"Are you hungry? I could make you something, Ymir."

I licked my lips.

I was pretty hungry, but I wasn't about to let her do everything.

"No, no," I smiled.

It was time to pull out the real moves.

It was time to really woo her.

I didn't care much for the money aspect, because you couldn't bring money with you when you died, but I wanted to really wow her as I went behind her hugging, and then smiling.

"Let me cook."

"Oh?" She leaned back, interested.

"Have you ever had an Indian Taco?"


	4. Beauty in the Eyes of the Beholder

In the background, the radio was playing music, setting the mood. 

“L-like this?” 

“Like that.” I took her hand and made it press in harder. 

“See?” I smiled and she mustered one, too, staring down. 

“I never—“

“It’s okay. It’s kind of hard for beginners.”

“Who knew,” she giggled as I switched places with her so she could watch, “that making bread from scratch was kind of hard.”

“It’s the kneading,” I worked my wrists and hands into it, turning it over and over, pushing my weight into it. 

“It looks like hard work.” She leaned forward on the counter, poking the dough. 

“Heh.” I licked my lips and kept going until I felt the dough was ready. 

“Okay, this is fast rising. So we should only give it a few,” I slapped my hands together, wiping and trying to smear the dough and flour from them. 

“So…Indian Tacos are just like regular tacos?” Historia was washing her hands in the sink and I went over, joining her as I hummed. 

“Kind of but not really… Indian Tacos are superior.” 

“Are they?” Historia turned towards me, eyebrow raised. 

Oh. 

A play of words, hm? 

“Definitely.”

“But I never had one,” she tilted her head, a small smile growing on her lips as her eyes glanced down only briefly, “how do I know you’re not just saying that?”

I scoffed, leaning in and grabbing her soft cheeks, pulling them. 

“Ow!” She gave me a dirty look as I laughed. 

“You’ll know,” I relinquished her cheeks and gently poked her nose, leaving her there to nurse her red face.

“I can already tell,” Historia followed me to the couch, “that you’re a romantic.”

“And I can tell you’re a sex phone operator,” I stuck my tongue out. 

Oh no. 

Sasha’s shitty behavior was rubbing off on me. 

I quickly schooled myself. 

But Historia already comically stuck her tongue out back. 

I didn’t find it as surprising as I would’ve to see that not only was Historia beauty, grace, Miss Please Sit On My Face, but also a very down to Earth girl. 

At least I didn’t have to worry about being somewhat formal around her. Not that I would’ve been good at that anyways. 

“So, Ymir Mouthful,” Historia plopped down beside me, closing her eyes and listening to the soft nightlife of the city outside her large windows. 

“What brought you to that bridge?”

Ah. 

I had a feeling she’d ask that one day. 

I didn’t know if I had the answer to it. 

How could I say so casually that I wasn’t comfortable with my body and my mind at times? In moments I never thought I’d be struck with anxiety I would find myself fidgeting and thinking like people could see right through me, judge what I truly felt. 

It was a stupid paranoid notion—but it ate me. It was there like worms in my veins, silent and crawling and writhing when I thought I grew comfortable with my own resolve. 

Even now I felt my tongue grow heavy and my knuckles feel like they needed to be popped—it felt like I was breaking those nasty little crawlers with every crack. 

“Hm. I don’t think you want the answer to that.” I smiled a little because I didn’t want to really lie. 

Historia drew her knees up to her chest, peering at me carefully. 

“…Were you robbing people?” She decided to take a whack at it. 

I snorted. 

“Me? Robbing? Why do you ask—because I’m darker in complexion?” I raised an eyebrow, not offended quite yet. 

“Not at all,” Historia rolled her eyes, “it’s because Sasha told me you’re not close to be rich.”

Oh. 

That little sh—

“Wait, when did you guys exchange numbers?”

“Sasha texted, saying she stole my number from your phone”—the little shit! I knew I shouldn’t have given her my phone’s passcode—“and told me to treat you to something nice…which I haven’t yet because you’ve been adamant on paying.”

I clicked my tongue, happy to get off topic. 

“Well, treatin—“

“Is not important,” Historia cut me off. 

I disliked being talked over. 

“I believe I was asking…why you were there…?” 

“Does it really matter?” I sighed. 

To escape my problems through either walking to a fuck buddy’s house or linger at the bridge, thinking of how I could easily throw myself into the falls and the currents would sweep me under, toss and catch me under its rapid waters like a boiling brew until all life left me. 

Sometimes it was a comforting thought. 

A lot of the times it was. 

I never knew if I really would or even could do that to myself, though, but the thought alone…of it being comfortable…it made my skin feel too tight and my gut squirm and twist like it was trying to reach out for that option. 

“I was pissed off and was trying to go to another bar. A friend would be there.”

Historia watched me closely. 

She could see right through me like everyone else, couldn’t she?

I felt my palms working up another sweat—

“I won’t press any further if you don’t want to talk about it,” Historia cleared her throat, “I just…want you to know that I’m a pretty open person, Ymir.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“If it helps you, I was there to tell my ex-boyfriend off…though I told you that…but to be honest, I wasn’t very happy at the time. Not about the relationship or break-up. It was something else…something deeper…”

My throat constricted and I could only stare at her—the city lights and skyline behind her like a Hollywood prop, and her being my femme fatale. 

It felt surreal. If I reached out I swore I’d only feel the static of a TV screen. 

I strained my lips between my teeth, trying to figure out what exactly she was saying, because I didn’t want to spit on her honesty or openness with a shitty reply. 

But she didn’t need me to continue. 

“It might be strange to you,” she chuckled a bit. A bit too sad. 

“But I never felt comfortable with myself. One day I’m so certain who I want to be and then the next I feel sick to my stomach because I’m indecisive…and it’s tiring.” She admitted. 

“Why would it be strange to me?” I had to ask because I didn’t understand. 

She blinked and that sweet, slow smile came with those pink tinted cheeks. 

“Because you walk into a place and just…you just have such confidence and presence… It’s very cool.” She held a hand up to her mouth, laughing. 

“It sounds really cheesy coming from me.”

I smiled. Her words were fine ink on my heart, filling my confidence, but I knew that this little bit was just a side-road to the conversation. 

“Believe it or not,” I teased her lightly, “I sometimes feel like you.”

Finding who you were while struggling to be ‘all grown up’ and making ‘big kid decisions’ was scary. 

Hella fucking scary. 

Every day was another morning spent in bed, staring at the white popcorn ceiling, wondering if today was the day I’d have a revelation or inkling of who I was or who I’d be or if I’d finally find the career I’d spend the rest of my life with…a person I would love…

“Yeah?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, peering off to the side, contemplating. 

“That’s…reassuring.” She murmured. 

She was a very honest person. Something the world lacked and what I could appreciate in the uncertainty of everything in this world. 

“I went to the falls…wondering if I’d feel any better after tell Reine—his name was Reiner—that I didn’t feel the same…I thought it’d feel right to be with him, but I knew almost right after the moment I said ‘yes’ that I liked girls and only girls.” Historia hummed. 

“It was strange…I never been with a girl before or anyone. I thought that I had to try…try one or the other. And boys…well, boys were easy to approach because that’s normal…so I went with him and it only lasted two months…”

I reached out, caressing the side of her cheek because she wasn’t looking at me—her gaze was far off as if she was watching a black and white film of loss and pain and something else. 

She turned towards me and I invited her closer. 

She hesitated and kept still. 

“…I-I—“

I didn’t know why she was scared—was I moving to fast? I had thought maybe…she’d like to be held while talking to.

“Um…I-I don’t really…feel comfortable with messing arou—“

“Oh, no,” I shook my head, “we don’t have to do that.”

She nursed her bottom lip a moment longer before crawling over, sitting in my lap, back facing me, and she began to twirl and curl her hair with her index finger. 

“The first month was okay… we kissed. I tried to think that relationships took awhile—you know? That it’d feel better as time went on because I never been in one… but by the second month…he tried feeling me up more. Tried doing…things…and I’d reject him.”

“Bastard,” I muttered, gently rubbing her arm in hopes to comfort. 

“No…not a bastard… at least not the first few times.” She defended him. 

“I…I led him on…and I’m strange in that… that I didn’t want it.”

“Not at all,” I told her and she shifted. 

“It is strange…”

“Some people just don’t like sex.”

“It’s…it’s complicated.” 

I knew she wasn’t going to budge because she was tensing up and I didn’t want her to feel obligated to give me her life’s story if she felt uncomfortable. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain it. I respect your decision.” I assured. 

Historia nodded. 

“Just…all of it…the relationship made me think hard about myself…and I just got to the point where I felt—I feel very lost…like no matter which way I go in life that…that things will always turn out bad…”

Oh. 

Oh no.

“Oh, Squeaker, no,” I whispered, hugging her tightly against me. 

Not just for her but for me, too. 

Fate would have it this way, wouldn’t it?

That I’d meet someone…someone who felt very similar as me…stuck at a crossroad, stuck together in this same fucked up stalemate. 

“It’s…” 

“It’s—it’s nothing to feel bad about… it’s just how I feel…and I don’t need…pity or anything like that,” she wasn’t being mean with it—her words always lacked the edge to be sharp and damaging—she said it with a tiresome drawl that made me feel like she had heard what I said one too many times.

“People have been through worse, right? Not knowing…what is the lesser evil in your life and following through…hah…it can barely be a good enough reason to…to want to do that…”

I didn’t want to think of what she would’ve done if we didn’t meet up like we did. 

I didn’t want to think what I would’ve done. 

“I feel so selfish, Ymir,” she whispered, “and at the same time I feel like I have a right to be…isn’t that silly?”

“Not at all,” I cleared my throat, finally able to give her an answer to something. 

Anything. 

I wanted to be anything to help her, but her honesty was clawing at my stomach, forcing my own shit to bubble up in my throat, threatening to spill, because nothing felt better than trading hidden truths for one and another. 

Just so she wouldn’t feel like she was terrible because I could sense it all over her skin she thought she was a spoiled rotten rich kid who was throwing everything away. 

“I feel a lot like you…It’s a bit scary,” I tried to chuckle but it was so strained. She heard it and even spared me a small laugh. 

“I think we’re a bit too similar,” I attempted but she immediately shook her head. 

“Not at all,” she sighed, “I wish we were, though. Don’t take offense.”

“Nah,” I soothed and she got out of my lap. I took a glimpse at her face and found that she seemed a bit more sober.   
“So…how’s that stomach?” I asked because that’s all I could try while shaking off the lingering awkwardness of not knowing what to do. 

“Ah,” Historia held it a bit, “it’s…much better…”

On cue my stomach growled loudly. 

Historia snorted, shaking her head. 

“It sounds like yours isn’t happy though…how about we finish dinner—Indian tacos, right? The ones you said were very amazing?” 

“Right,” I hopped up, grinning, “the most amazing food that will become your favorite in one bite.”

“Is that so?” She elbowed me in my hip as I removed the towel covering the dough bowl. It was all puffy and happy like a cloud as I took a palm-sized glob. 

“Now, you got to spread it out thin,” I fingered it gently, pressing it and making it like a disc and she did so, too, as we set the pan with olive oil and began to fry it. 

I set to cooking the can of chili—I was lazy and didn’t want to do the homemade stuff. 

In less than thirty minutes, we had our plates of frybread and I showed her the works—chili, shredded cheese, spinach, tomato, onion, and an optional salsa or sour cream. 

We sat at her table and I winked at her. 

“Go ahead. Take a bite of it.”

She grinned, cutting off a bite-sized piece and taking a nibble. 

Immediately, her face lit up.

“Hah!” I slapped my hands together, leaning back in my chair and biting my bottom lip, snickering in sweet victory. 

“It’s good! Better than tacos—regular tacos!” She began to devour it with glee. 

“I know, I know—It’s the best,” I followed her example and we took down about two each before throwing in the white flag and storing the leftovers in her fridge. 

“So…um, how about that sleeping arrangement, huh?” I asked as she was turning out the lights. 

She smiled, coming up to me and tip-toeing so she could just be a little bit closer to my face. 

“Maybe…in the future our sleeping arrangement can be closer than how tonight’s will be, hm?” She brought a hand up to my cheek, holding it there so she could kiss my lips. 

I leaned down, deepening it for only a moment and was completely lost in fuzzy land as she pulled away. 

“The bedroom is right down this hall,” she pointed near the kitchen, “and my bedroom is down this way,” she gestured to the hall behind her. 

“T-That’s cool,” I nodded, trying to clear my head, “um, I…goodnight…Hm.”

I leaned down again, giving her a quick kiss to the forehead and made my way straight to the guest room, legs almost betraying me as I finally hid inside the room and jumped around. 

Holy fucking shit!

She was so pretty and cute and sweet and cute and—uh—pretty! And cool! And great!

I danced around, wagging my butt and flopping onto the bed. 

What a night!

.  
.  
.  
 _“I think we’re a bit too similar.”_

I let the hot water course down my body as I stood under the shower’s spray, reliving the night. 

_“Not at all,” I grieved, “I wish we were, though. Don’t take offense.”_

I would give anything to be like Ymir—strong, beautiful, confident. I wanted to walk into a room and have people know that I knew myself inside and out and nothing could ever change that.

I grabbed the bar of soap, scrubbing it against the washrag and ran it over my skin, watching the suds stick and slide down with the trickling water. 

In here, I felt beautiful. 

I felt right. 

I was who I was without a doubt. 

I wasn’t who people thought I was or tried to pretend I wasn’t. 

I was just me. 

No labels. 

I dropped the wash rag, leaning against the wall. 

But I couldn’t hide in here forever. 

I couldn’t pretend Ymir and I would last. 

She was a lesbian—it wasn’t hard to figure that out. 

I was—I had nothing I fell under. 

I was a misfit ever since I was born. My parents thought I’d turn out one way but then as I matured I became another. 

They overlooked what they didn’t want to believe and see. 

I glanced down at my feet. 

No doubt…Ymir would learn…she would learn what I kept from Reiner and others…and she’d leave me because…

I looked at myself. 

Connie’s elbow had went straight between my legs and really dealt a crushing blow. 

It was hard not to hold myself and cry right then and there, but I knew I couldn’t… it’d be too obvious. 

My hand went to my sex, cupping it, and feeling it. 

It was sore as I held it. 

It wasn’t who I was—I was more than just what was between my legs. I was a person… a person who deserved love and a place in society like everyone else. 

I wanted… 

I wanted to be a girl, but what I held now told everyone otherwise. 

To be a girl was to…to mutilate myself so I could have what every other girl had. 

Why did I have to hurt myself to become a girl? 

I was…I believed I was a good enough to be a girl. 

I released myself from my hold but I couldn’t stop staring at it. 

I liked Ymir a lot and I wanted to be the person Ymir was growing to like. I didn’t want her to just…see this and run away. 

I was so much more yet…

“I’m nothing more than this.” I said it, seeing how stupid it sounded. 

Because of this—this!—this dick between my legs I was somehow less than a girl and yet I could never be a man because I didn’t want to. 

I just wanted to be me. And I wanted Ymir to love me for who I was…

Expecting to be loved for who I am, was that too much to ask?

I didn’t know.

That’s why I had the medical documents always sitting in my desk, filled out but never sent, requesting to see a surgeon who could make me complete in society’s eyes. 

At crossroads, unable to choose, because I knew no matter which route I took I’d be damned. 

Damned and alone.


	5. Promise

I gritted my teeth, feeling my hips buck once.

Twice.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, trying to just rub one out before the start of the day.

I knew Ymir hadn't left at all because I didn't hear the front door close. And I trusted her enough not to ditch early morning without telling. I didn't want to accidentally get too excited to see Ymir still here so I had to take the pre-caution.

I clenched my jaw, eyes squeezing shut. My hand working all the while as I felt it build up, threatening to release any moment.

"G-God," I whispered to myself, shuddering, and it was done.

I licked my lips, grabbing tissue and cleaning myself and finally rolling out of bed, limping a bit as I got up.

I shuffled to the bathroom, tired and feeling a bit refreshed and drained at the same time, washing my hands, and beginning my morning ritual of putting on my face.

However, that sinking feeling was back from last night.

What was I even doing?

No matter how much I thought of ways to get around it, Ymir was a lesbian… and I didn't know if she'd see me as the girl I was.

And I didn't know if I had the courage to invest all my trust and budding feelings on her to have it all ripped to pieces when she saw what I had.

I didn't even want to picture her rejection and how I'd feel.

Alone.

It always hurt the most to have someone with me, holding hands and kissing, because I knew how alone I truly was. It was a gaping distance that echoed hollowness and inevitable despair.

Things just never lasted and that's how it always was—get together, have crushes, and before things got too deep quickly break away before they knew so they couldn't officially hurt me. I was a coward for it.

I kept staring at my own eyes in the mirror, trying to find the reason why I wasn't enough when it finally came to gender.

I wondered if there would ever be a day where I would be more.

I stopped, sighing.

What tiring thoughts so early in the morning.

Just enjoy it, Historia.

What if I was tired of taking the little things I could get? I felt spoiled to admit it but I didn't want to have just scraps anymore. I wanted all or nothing.

My heart couldn't take another round of chicken.

I will…I would just have to drop contact with her…

I don't want to leave her or drag her along. For once, I didn't want to do that to someone. Maybe it was because she was different and I actually really did have a big stupid crush on her, or maybe it was my heart saying it was done pretending I could have a romantic love life with this body.

I spent a generous amount of time in the bathroom, applying makeup, brushing hair and putting it up in a messy bun.

While I made my resolve to drop things with Ymir, I still wanted to look cute. It was at least one thing I wasn't fickle about.

When I was done, I sucked in all the will and air I could and went outside my room.

The moment I opened the door I was met with a waft of delicious smells—seasoned sausage, succulent potatoes, steaming coffee, crunchy toast, and a hint of peppers. The kitchen radio was on, too, blaring whatever flavor today's pop had.

My stomach immediately growled as I wandered down the hall, padding quietly until I saw Ymir working the kitchen with the promise of a big breakfast. Only wearing the loose button up and her boxer shorts.

In fact, she was so engrossed in it that she didn't notice as I stood, blankly watching her as she danced about, humming to the song, and setting down our plates.

She did a quick twirl on the ball of her foot, grinning and snatching the toast, placing it on the plate, and was about to dance some more till she did see me.

She stopped, gasping, and slipped.

I winced at the crack of her falling on the ground and then speedily getting back up, red-faced.

"I-I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast!" She nearly squeaked in embarrassment. I could practically see her almost slap herself at her lack of swag.

"I figured you'd like breakfast," she grinned that boyish charm at me, rubbing her no-doubtingly sore bum.

Oh.

My chest was fluttering and heavy, making me realize how hard it was to breathe—how could I do this naturally without forgetting to?

I put my hand up to my face, feeling my cheek, rubbing it—hot and burning.

I couldn't stop the grin that came to my face as she perked up. I could practically hear her tail wagging at my smile—I couldn't stop it! Stop, oh, Historia, no, no, no—stop! If you keep this up—

"Can I say I love you?" It bubbled up my throat into a chuckle and she rolled her eyes with a lopsided grin, staring up at her bed-frazzled bangs and blowing them off to the side.

"You can if you say you'll forget me falling on my ass and dancing to One Direction."

It was too late to stop this train wreck.

**-x-x-x-**

"So…how long have you felt this way?" I asked, walking beside Historia, holding her hand, and watching our breath linger in the cold brisk morning.

"Mm," she was quiet.

Despite the lively breakfast, we were back to slowly opening up to each other with choked questions, afraid to offend or go too far, and casual replies even though it was far from okay.

"A very long time. As long as I could remember," she admitted as we went to Riverfront Park, back to where we met.

I didn't question if she was being dramatic. I accepted her answers as if they were universal truths. After all, who else would know better except her on how she felt?

"…have you thought of—"

"Therapy?" She smiled and leaned against me, showing me she wasn't being cheeky. She must've heard this over a thousand times.

"I have and it seems helpful when I'm in there—talking and being seen as a person—but the moment I walk out and see the world again I remember that it's not like that." Historia was quiet after that, thinking.

"I see you as a person," I told her, kissing the top of her head, reminding her that I wasn't as shallow as the world seemed to be.

"Do you?" She didn't waste a second to follow-up.

This time it seemed a bit venomous—the kind as if she was cornered.

"I do." Like her, I was quick with my answer and that seemed to quell the storm in her from bubbling up again.

We continued our walk to the bridges over the Falls. I was contemplating what I could say to make her trust me, or even consider me more than just another shallow person.

When we got to the bridge we met on, she startled the shit out of me by jumping on it, stomping.

She turned towards me, smiling a little.

I rolled my eyes and marched on it with her as she snickered.

But I stopped and caused her to do so, too. She turned, wondering what I had to say.

"I don't think," it was hard to believe after these two or so weeks of knowing her that I felt so strongly. It was like we were magnets and that this dating phase was irrelevant. Just a silly walking through of an unnecessary dance we knew.

"I don't think I want to stomp on the bridge anymore." I told, resisting any urge to pop my knuckles.

She stared and then looked very tired, taking her hand from me.

Ah.

She thought I was telling her I no longer wanted to be together, wasn't I?

"I—I like…hanging around you more than hoping the bridge will fall." I cleared my throat and she was shocked for only a moment.

"So…I was hoping we could be more," I took her hand again and I closed my eyes.

Come on, Ymir, fucking pull through. Don't fuck up now.

"Girlfriend will be mine?"

A wind blew through.

Historia quickly bowed her head, doubling in with a laugh as I felt my cheeks turn deeper than roses.

"Shut up! I—"

Historia always got me like this—tongue-tied when otherwise I could charm the skin off of snakes.

"Girlfriend I will be," she mocked but I felt a wolfish smirk overcome me as I launched her up and then onto my shoulder.

"Y-Ymir!" She cried out, frozen in fear as I raced across the bridge while I carrying her.

"You're mine now!" I barked out a laugh as she struggled once we got to stable ground.

"Let me go!" She was laughing so hard causing me to almost topple over from laughing with her, too.

"Never, once you're mine I won't let you go," I snickered, pulling her off my shoulder but hugging her close, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Really?"

"Really." She pressed her nose to mine.

She gave a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.

"I will keep you to that word."


	6. Buddy

“Sushi? Never really had it.” I admitted, walking with my arm linked with hers. She kept close to me and many people gave us thumbs up, or commented on what a cute couple we were. 

Historia seemed to eat up the comments with bashful blushes and silly smiles. In return, I could only grin and hold her tighter to my side. 

“Really? I thought you would have.” She hummed all too innocently. We walked into the doors of the mall and I snorted, leaning down to kiss her temple. 

“Shush, you.” 

“Oh? What, did I say something wrong?” She might’ve had a pure tone but the cocky like smirk that was lightly tugging on her lips told me otherwise. 

“For a girl who doesn’t like sex, you sure do talk about it a lot,” I remarked as we only went a little ways before going into the sushi restaurant. 

It was something I didn’t quite see before—platters of food on a conveyor belt. Fancy that. 

The attendant seated us and Historia already was on the search for whatever. 

I watched as plates after plates after plates came marching down the side of me until I spotted something all too familiar. 

“Oh,” I was already drooling, “salmon.”

I was swiped three platters and somehow managed the chopsticks—slopping the piece into my mouth. 

It was fucking heaven. 

Historia laughed when the rice came apart and slid down my shirt. 

“I thought you’d like it,” I never thought of her to be the smug type yet here we were. 

Finally, whatever she was waiting for came—it was a plate of three balls covered in sesame seeds. 

“What’s that?” I asked as she popped one in her mouth. 

“Sesame balls,” she hummed, “they have red bean paste inside of them.”

Red bean paste?

Like, beans in chili? No thank you. 

“Eh,” I gave it a quizzical look. 

“It’s sweet, here,” she effortlessly brought her chopsticks down, grabbing it and presenting it before my lips. 

Tentively, I took it into my mouth—ah, the pride on her face!—and chomped away, finding it to be rather okay. 

“Hm,” I licked my chops, thinking before shrugging, “I prefer my salmon—oh, shrimp, too, huh.” 

We were buried deep in our own food for a while until Historia seemed less interested in her fifth plate of sesame balls. 

“So, Mouthful,” she grinned, catching me when my face was stuffed with a California roll, “is it okay if I ask questions?”

Questions? 

Oh boy. 

I hoped that Sasha didn’t blab her mouth about shit. Not that we were messing around anymore but I didn’t know if Historia was the jealous type. 

If she asked me to not hang out with Sasha as much, I would have to draw some li—

“When did you know you were a lesbian?”

Ah. I swallowed and took a drink of my water, clearing my throat up a bit. 

This was the usual question. 

“Is this your first time dating a girl?” I asked because before I ventured into that tough yet simple subject I wanted to know what angle she was coming from—was she a confused girl taking me for a joyride, or was she trying to feel how experienced I was?

“W-Well, yes, of course it is,” Historia had a strange edge to it. 

“What’s up with that?” I asked, gesturing to her. 

She huffed, looking away. 

“I-I don’t know.” She muttered in a spoiled sort of way. 

“Hey,” I chuckled, trying to ease off of her, knowing discomfort when I saw it, “it’s alright—but know it’s kind of unfair to pry me open and then get angry if I prod at you, too.” 

Historia shied from my words, braiding the ends of her hair in anxious knots and curls. 

Her lips strained a few times like she was biting back words and I busied myself with a few more bites, letting her know that this wasn’t anything too serious despite it sort of being so. 

“I’m just nervous,” she sighed, relenting to continue the conversation. Seems her curiosity won over her indecisiveness. 

“That’s fine—if it’s new it’ll do that to you.” I shrugged and she blinked a few times, smiling slowly at me and then slumping her shoulders, staring at her half-empty plate. 

“You’re so understanding…” She whispered and I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or her admitting defeat. 

“Heh,” being understanding wasn’t something I’d describe myself as—especially after informally being banned from future LGBTQ meetings, “well, I knew I liked girls for a long time.”

There were reasons that led to me strictly being all about the ladies, but confessing that to someone—let alone at a sushi place—was not on the list of to-do’s. 

“Ever since I was small, I would always daydream of kissing girls—had big crushes on the pretty actresses on the TV and stuff,” I played with the straw of my drink as she watched my hand. 

“I didn’t really figure it out till,” I paused. 

Till Sasha drunkenly came out as a bisexual at a party and from then on we became cuddle and kiss buddies. 

Then more. 

Hah. 

Well, might as well tell her so she knows I’m being honest with her. Anything kept from her might as well be considered lies. 

“Well, till I kissed Sasha my Freshman year.”

Historia’s eyes lit up. 

“Sasha? She’s—“

“Yep. She’s a damn good kisser,” I laughed, embarrassed at it all. 

Historia stared long and hard at me. 

“Are you two—“

“Nope. Just good friends. We fool around when we’re single, but she got her dream man in shining bald armor. And I’m very happy for her,” I emphasized the last bit so I could quell any possible seeds of jealousy or doubt. 

She licked her lips, staring at her food and then back up at me eagerly. 

“It came to you that easily?” She asked, hopeful. 

It was strange to be so excited over what I said—I found it as dull as reading a history book, because that’s what it was. Old news. 

“I guess so,” it made me a bit uncomfortable because there was more to it, but, again, a fucking sushi place confession to a dream girl I didn’t want to fuck it up with? No thanks. 

“That must be nice,” Historia sat back in the booth, playing with the sesame balls now. 

“I have no idea what I want.”

“Really?” I asked, seeing her frown and look suddenly so much smaller. 

“I have no idea what I am.”

“Well,” I grabbed a piece of rice, flicking it at her and making her scold me, “I know that you’re into me…and that you’re Historia…and I think that’s pretty nice.”

She choked up such a laugh and smile that it made me almost wince at how beautiful and bright she shined from hearing that. 

“Oh, Ymir,” she would’ve thrown herself on me, I swear, if there wasn’t a table between us, “you’re such an…ah, angel…You’re a sweet, lovely angel.”

Angel?

I felt my blood rush and I was left there, stupefied and itching my cheek, watching the sushi go by much faster than my slow brain could form a sentence. 

“Well, I guess,” I grumbled, unhappy at the reaction stupid, wimpy pet names had on me. It was really strange to be treated like… well, a girl. 

I was always giving the mushy pet names here and there, but to be given such things back… 

“How about we head back to my place for a little?” Historia suggested. 

“Ah, I actually have to go study… In college and all.”

“So do I, but I won’t take too much of your time, alright?” She promised but then she added a wink. 

Oh. 

Oh, when did I charm and seduce her?

Oh. 

“Alright.”

**-x-x-x-**

“I will be right back,” I told Ymir who was lazily lounging on the couch, mindlessly watching the TV with a nod. She lifted her shirt a bit—revealing the outline of relaxed abs—and itched near her tummy.

Ah. 

“Not going anywhere yet,” she promised and I quickly slunk off to my room with intentions completely elsewhere. 

Once behind the safety of my door, I sighed and ran to my bathroom, quickly ripping off my pants and underwear. 

I was wearing spandex under my jeans to keep myself in place, but... I needed something better now. I knew myself the best and knew what I was about to do would make it painfully obvious. 

I went to my shower, running it on as cold as I could get because I could already feel my body reacting to the idea of Ymir—ah. 

I felt myself twitch and I clicked my tongue, bringing out a small pink plastic tub into the shower, letting it fill a bit before turning it off. I grabbed the nearby cup, filling it with that icy water. 

My balls were beginning to tighten and grow hotter and heavier with the idea of Ymir’s abs and touching them. Again, I felt myself throb a little. 

Not today, buddy. 

I brought the cup up to my package, dipping them and immediately jumping, hissing at the iciness, but the trick did its job—they were less apparent. 

I dumped the water back into the shower and sat the toilet seat down, sitting on it and began to tuck myself. 

My hand went to the medical tape, but I thought about it. 

This was Ymir we were talking about. And I didn’t want to chance slipping-up. 

My hand went to the duct-tape and I went to ensuring that there’d be no surprises. 

I made sure I was snug and even jumped around a bit, watching and making sure everything was out of sight and mind. 

Perfect.

I slid my spandex back on and peered my body mirror, seeing no bulge. I was safe now. 

I slipped my pants on and went out of my bathroom and bedroom and back into the living room to find Ymir popping her knuckles.

**-x-x-x-**

“Nervous?”

I nearly jumped out of my fucking skin—when the fuck did she get there? Fucking silent babe ninja. 

“Jesus Christ,” I snorted as she giggled, walking around the couch. 

But she didn’t sit next to me. 

She sat in my lap. 

My eyes went wide as her hands went to my cheeks, caressing them as she put her forehead against mine. Her eyes were half-lidded as she stroked my cheek slowly, gently like a summer breeze. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she commented and she got her desired effect as I blushed. It was a first for everything with her—feel more like a girl getting swept off her feet and now she was doing all the work of coming onto. 

I wish I could’ve said the same to her but my tongue was dry and my throat felt like I swallowed a melon. 

She closed her eyes, leaning forward, kissing the corner of my mouth, making my lip twitch as I tried to kiss her back, but every time she dipped in she’d pull away before I could capture her. 

My arms went around her waist, pulling her close to me as I was beginning to relax under her affections. 

“Historia,” I whispered and felt a shiver race up her back. Again, her lips escaped me but my hand went to the back of her neck and immediately I caged her into a desperate kiss. 

“Ah,” she whined into my mouth, letting me feel her vulnerable softness as I hungrily took her lips.

I could feel her hands roaming up and down my body until they were going for my shirt. She didn’t hesitate to slide them up, feeling my stomach. 

“Oh God,” her body tremored for a moment, “those feel nice.”

I almost wanted to snicker but I could only give her a smirk as I gave her no more room for talk. My arms made her mine against me as I brought her back for another—but this time I wanted more. 

I kissed her, biting her bottom lip—making her gasp hot air against me, fueling me with shaky power and arousal. I parted my lips, licking her swollen lip, and she hesitated before pulling back, shy. 

“Hm? Too far?” I asked, voice husky and in a daze by her seductive persuasion over me. She made me feel like I smoked the best weed in my life. 

But she got determined again and came back, rushing her hands up into my hair, running and lacing them in. 

I groaned and she had the gall to pull on it—setting me off as I growled, kissing her again and pressing my tongue into her. 

I could feel the suffocating moan that vibrated through her body and then mine. It made me feel like I was a fucking God. 

“Mmhf,” her tongue was against mine and she let me take control as she eventually caught up with speed. 

My hands went up her body and I found what I wanted—

“Ah!” She pulled away. The blush on her face was bright like pink roses, making her aquamarine eyes look ethereal. 

Her eyes shot down to her chest, seeing me caught red-handed with my palms full of her. 

I removed my hands, raising an eyebrow and she gave me such a dirty, teasing look. 

“Aren’t you sly,” her voice was hot and heavy as she leaned forward, kissing my nose and my lips trailing after every kiss, trying to get her to give me another moment of breathless bliss. 

“So, Ymir,” her voice was silk, “do you like it when we kiss?”

Her hand was ghosting over my arm until a sole finger glided up and down, trying to coax an answer out of me, but all it did was make my underwear wetter. 

“Y-yeah…you kiss really good.” I said because it was true and I wanted to say all the right things to get her back to loving me. 

“Yes!” She hissed, pulling back and snapping me out of my heat.

She was wiggling her butt in my lap, trying her best to dance but making it look more like a squirm as she fist pumped the air. 

“Hoh?” 

Historia put her finger on my nose, bopping it like how I did to her the day before. 

“Oh.” I snickered and she crossed her arms, pleased with herself. 

“I see now,” I tilted my head, leaning forward and giving her small kisses on her jawline, “you were jealous of Sasha.”

Historia giggled and I blew a raspberry right into her neck. 

“For shame,” I whispered as she screamed, laughing hysterically, trying to push me away from her ticklish spot. 

“YMIR!”

“Oh, Historia!” I mocked, tickling her more until she fell off my lap and I joined her on the floor, rolling about and wrestling. 

.  
.  
.  
“Today was fun,” I told her, chuckling and wincing from my sore stomach. The girl had some razor blade elbows. 

“It was,” she pulled to the apartment complex. 

We didn’t even live too far away from each other. I could probably walk easily to her place if I wasn’t lazy. 

“So,” I leaned over, tapping my cheek, “do I get a kiss?”

Historia rolled her eyes, scoffing in good nature before taking hold of my whole face. 

“Come here, freckles,” she wooed, kissing me deeply on the lips. It was as intoxicating as before but cut short as she rubbed my face with her thumbs. 

“Study good and hard, alright?” She gave a chaste kiss on my nose. 

“The week will go by faster so we can be together again, alright?” 

I nodded, kissing her lips once more—God, I felt insatiable. 

“Does being together again mean another chance to grab those fantastic ti—“

“Shush, don’t ruin it,” she laughed, shooing me out her car as I winked and shot her finger guns to make it even more cringey for her. 

“Go study, dork!” She hollered from her car as she pulled out. 

I stuck my tongue out at her and back-stepped to the apartment complex, watching her leave till she was gone.

I got to the door and stopped. 

“Agh! I’m so stupid!” I hissed, nearly slapping myself. 

Never fucking ever finger-gun again. 

God.


	7. The Falls

"—machine guns completely changed every aspect of war, causing trench warfare—" I felt my foot tapping away as I tried to concentrate but I kept thinking of Historia.

She sent me a good morning message, wishing me a good day at school. That was literally only an hour ago and it was beginning to prick my skin as I kept glancing at the clock.

Why was time so slow?

I just wanted it to be the weekend despite it being Monday.

I craved to be anywhere near Historia. Just to hear her voice and be in her company.

It made my stomach all hot and warm—a lot like anxiety.

A little too much like it.  
.

.

.

"Ymir!" Sasha threw herself against me, grabbing my arm and twirling about.

"Connie brought me out to dinner the other night to The Elk! It was so good!" Her mouth kept running but I was starting to feel gross in my stomach like I had to run or fight.

I huffed and she stopped, seeing my face and she knew immediately.

"Hey, let's go get some fresh air, hm?" She suggested because the crowds of students in the halls weren't helping.

I hated crowds.

"I have a cigarette, too," she ventured, taking hold of my hand and rubbing the back of it with her thumb.

"Hn."

"Okay. Let's go."  
.

.

.

"H-Help! P-Ple—"

The drunk crowd at my house didn't listen as I had to push through them, grabbing at sleeves, trying to get their attention but they'd only smile at me and pat my head.

"Ilse! Hel—"

The crowd wouldn't listen and they'd mindlessly corner me, unaware I was even there.

.

.

.

"I thought things were getting better," I mumbled, scratching my neck, remembering my last attack—the night at the bar some time ago. The night I met Historia.

Sasha leaned against me, wrapping her arm around me and rubbing my shoulder.

"Things are," she promised, "but sometimes we get overwhelmed and we feel a bit under."

I cleared my throat, stubbing out the cigarette.

"Don't think it's not, okay? I can see you getting better." Sasha smiled that stupid thing she always did, making me roll my eyes and chuckle.

"You've just been busy lately, right? Staying busy is good! And I think Historia really helps." She gave me a squeeze before getting up, seeing Connie waving us down.

"Corndog!" Sasha yelled.

"Potato!" He cried, laughing and racing over and smiling at me.

"Um…we haven't thought of a nickname for her yet."

"Ah, that's right! Hm…"

I ignored their banter as I mulled over Sasha's words—she was right, I was staying busy. Historia made me forget a lot of things, but…it was only temporary.

We were starting to pry into each other more, trying to see who we were dating. And I didn't have the heart to always lie to her.

I sighed.

It was fucking easy to tell her how I felt but it seemed hard to say it. All my friends knew how I was all of my life and I grew into that mold—any moment where I tried to say otherwise they laughed even harder.

I shook my head.

Yeah. It was stupid.

I didn't need to worry about it when I had Historia anyways.

Didn't need to think about it at all.

.

.

.

Yet it was always there in every minute.  
.

.

.

Sasha was quiet when she picked me up and drove us from my apartment and past the college. We only had to go a little ways before turning off into a secluded little area—the Tamarak Center.

"Mind giving these to her?" Sasha asked, pulling out a small bouquet of flowers.

I nodded.

"I should only be an hour." I murmured, taking them and getting out of the car.

"I will be at the library—just call!" She yelled from her window as I was going to check into the visitor's center.

"Tell her hi!"

I got through the front door and saw Armin working the front desk as usual.

"Ah," he smiled, "Ymir, you're back—Ilse has been excited to see you."

"Has she? I missed her." I smiled, showing him the flowers and letting him inspect it.

"They're nice. Sash get them for her?"

"Haha, yeah. I'm terrible with flowers."

Armin grinned, handing me the clipboard and sign-in sheet as I filled out any necessary requirements and gave it back.

He entered the information and stood up, grabbing her key card and giving clearance into the family room.

"I think she'll like them!" His smile was kind but I knew he felt bad for me—everyone usually did once they knew.

Armin had to know because he knew all the patients and their situations. Including Ilse's and mine.

I walked through and sure enough the place was vacant except for my sister sitting near the glass window, watching the little chickadees tot about, pecking and exploring the yellow grass for the possibility of seeds or unlucky bugs.

"Hey, sis," I approached her slowly, making my presence announced, but she still jumped.

She always did.

But her smile came and her eyes brightened.

"Ymir! You came!" She ran over to me, hugging me.

I smiled, hugging her, too, and showed her the flowers.

"Sasha says hi." I ruffled her hair and she was smiling, taking the flowers from my hands and gently stroking their purple petals.

"I love the color purple!"

"I know," I went and took a seat near the window and Ilse did the same on the opposite side, putting the flowers on the windowsill.

"How's college?" She asked because we always started with that.

"Eh, the week is long. I can't wait till tomorrow," I hummed, thinking of a certain blonde.

"Is there a party? What's tomorrow?" She asked, blankly blinking.

"Friday."

"Ah," she nodded, understanding, "it's hard to…remember what day it is in here."

That made me quiet.

Guilt came back.

She would've been in college, too, or at least signing up for it. If she wasn't here….

"So, how've you been?" I asked because it seemed like guilt was the only right thing to feel.

"I've been making improvements!" She sensed it and tried to soothe me.

"My therapist believes that if I keep up at this rate that I will be ready to sign up for college next year!"

I smiled, seeing her try so hard always made me feel weak yet comforted.

"I'm glad. Maybe I'd be able to pick on you and tell you which professors are good, hm?" I joked with her and she shook her head.

"I'm going to Gonzaga," she reminded and I nodded my head.

"Right, right—oh, guess what, Ilse?"

"Hm? What?"

"I have a girlfriend."

Ilse's eyes went bright and wide as she playfully slapped the table.

"Really? What is she like—anyone I know? Is it Sasha?"

"No, no, no," I snorted and she licked her lips, excited to know.

"Her name is Historia. She goes to Gonzaga, too, and she's…well, if you think of a movie star actress crossed with a witty, booksmart nerd then you'd get Historia."

"Hoh? She sounds amazing! Did she come with you?" Ilse glanced at the door, trying to see if she could answer her own question.

"Ah…no, she didn't…"

There was silence and Ilse's face fell.

She stopped looking at me and she went back into the state I hated—that lifeless and drowned part of her that made my heart hurt.

"Right," she nodded.

"Ilse," I reached over, grabbing her hand, because I didn't want her to lose that rare happiness and excitement, "I will bring her next time, okay? How about that?"

Ilse only numbly nodded and Armin came in—he had security cameras he had to watch.

"It looks like Ilse isn't feeling too good, huh?" He was near her and she seemed to lean against him for support.

"Perhaps we should cut it short, right?"

"Yeah," Ilse surprisingly answered.

I felt something rip and twist in me.

Ilse hardly ever talked when she became almost catatonic. Except to me.

And now… she answered Armin…

It was sick of me to feel it but I felt angry that Ilse would not confide in me but Armin. Jealous that Armin somehow became the person she trusted most. I used to be that—

"You don't have to, Ymir," Ilse was up on her feet, upset no doubt at what was on both of our minds.

"I understand that you wouldn't want her to know…maybe when I get better," she was walked back to the patient hallway and I was left there with the flowers in the windowsill and my pride and guilt dashed before me like a broken jigsaw puzzle.  
.

.

.

"S-Stop!"

I felt powerless.

I could only think of Ilse nearby me.

I was scared for her—she was my baby sister.

I had to be strong and protect her, but how could I be that way if I couldn't save myself?

.

.

.

I shot up, feeling all too cold and finding my body shivering and shaking.

It was a dream—it was a memory?

A nightmare.

But my legs wouldn't stop aching, begging me to run. Just be anywhere but in your own body, Ymir.

I got out of bed, sloppily dressing myself, and took to walking out on the street, heading to the one place that felt right—the bridge.

My stomach was rolling and I kept getting racked and rattled with these thoughts.

I clenched my teeth, going into a jog.

_You weren't strong enough._

I was only a child!

_Look what happened to Ilse!_

No more, please…

I didn't want to remember that night.

Please.

Stop.

No more.


	8. Falling

**[Warning: Chapter contains very heavy and dark material.]**

I couldn’t keep her out of my mind. 

I felt the sweat drip down my forehead as I jogged, barely hearing anything past my earbuds as I took a turn towards the park for my morning workout. 

It had been about two weeks since I last saw Reiner so I felt my chest tighten when I saw him and his best friend stretching not too far away—it was here that we met and jogged together and eventually dated. 

I schooled my face, running past them to my usual route as Bertolt watched. 

Reiner also glanced. 

I could see the bitterness he had in his mouth, barely held back by shame and respect. 

I gave him a smile and he gulped as I jogged towards the bridges. 

“Historia! Wait!” He called and I felt a twinge in my stomach. 

I stopped.

Why was I stopping?

I pulled an earbud out and glanced at him. 

“Hm?”

“I—uh, we can still jog together…wanna come? The trail cleared up,” he pointed towards a runner’s path that was off-limits during winter, but now that it was near spring and the snow was melting it was again the public’s favorite. 

What was he trying to say?

He glanced down at the ground and Bert patted his back, jogging up ahead a bit. Giving us our space, I’m sure. 

“Look,” he hastily said because I was already trying to get my earbud in, ready to leave him because I knew he was going to say something. 

Anything to fuck me over in the end. 

“I…I reacted shitty,” he sighed, crossing his arms, “when…I didn’t mean to walk-in on you, alright? Everything you are—that’s cool.”

I frowned, blinking at him. 

“I…should’ve talked with you more…and not have gotten so freaked out, alright? But, it’s…it’s just new for me, alright? And I know…it’s a lifestyle or not bad to want to be a girl…but I don’t mind that… I was just so caught off guard—“

“It’s fine, Reiner.” I quickly muttered. 

He took the sign to back off and stared where Bert left off to. 

“I just want you to know, Historia… I support you and, um, your—whatever you’re going through.” 

What a shit thing to say after practically barging into my room one night and seeing me naked and then rushing off in disgust. And eventually leaving me right after. 

“That’s funny,” I mentioned, glaring at him, “I didn’t realize supporting me was looking at me like I was a freak.” 

It hurt to even say it but that’s how I knew many people saw me. 

I wasn’t born a female. 

Or male. 

I was somewhere in-between. 

It was never figured out until I grew up that I wasn’t a boy. I had the parts and all but the more I grew the more I looked like a girl. 

My father was caught up between disgust and intrigue and my mother treated me like the girl I wanted. They took me at face-value but the moment the problems came up—sex, puberty, and learning how to hide that part of me—the treatments, the brochures of surgical removal placed strategically in the living room where I sat… 

I knew that they wanted me to be something they understood—a girl. 

Or a boy if I finally wanted to keep my extra parts. 

I couldn’t be me—I couldn’t be a girl and not damage myself. It was unheard of and when I spoke to my mother about it she only batted eyelashes and nodded slowly and concluding that I would change my mind when I find the right boy and I wanted to be intimate. 

What would my future children say? 

I would never have kids as a woman, but as a man I could. I still remember the day my father took me to the doctor for testing on fertility and it coming back positive—he insisted so much that I take steps to fully become a man. 

And that’s when I said I will figure it out. 

Months later and I still don’t know what to do with myself. 

“…Historia…” Reiner took a step forward, “I was terrible…but I like you and—and I’d like to try ag—“

“I have a girlfriend.” I shot him down right then and there, turning and plugging myself back into my music, away from reality, and jogging away. 

How many times did I go to the doctor’s office for stupid visits just to hear them give me the option—do you want to be a girl or boy? 

Be a homemaker with sweet smiles, a chest, and a barren false womb that cannot give a husband what he wants?

Or, be a man that stands barely above five foot one, scars under his chest, and always overcompensating for his stolen masculinity?

I hated both options. 

I hated them fucking all. 

I wanted to be me, but why did it feel so bad to want to stay how I was born?

“Don’t fucking cry,” I growled to myself as I sprinted into the morning fog above the falls, feeling it grow colder and colder, pricking the corners of my eyes as they watered. 

“Don’t.”

**-x-x-x-**

I was there now.

Nobody was coming to save me now. 

My knuckles were white as paper, gripping the railing as I choked on the cold air burning my throat, staring into the shrouded abyss below. 

I could hear the falls calling me—I heard its roar, demanding that I stop bullshitting myself and just submit to something I knew was certain all along. 

Death.

No more guilt or traumatic memories. 

It could end here right now. 

Ilse would get better because I wouldn’t be there to remind her I didn’t want anyone to know what happened. Not know why she was in the ward. 

Sasha would be able to stop taking care of me. 

Historia would find someone better…that was my gift to her—freedom. 

My feet and body felt heavy as I leaned over the rail, closing my eyes, pretending I could just slip in, but I was shaking so fucking much. 

I stomped. 

Over and over.

Like a marching soldier with his platoon, hammering their boots and spears into the ground to rally the final battle. 

Just throw instinct to the wind. It’s the only thing stopping me from finally giving in. 

I lifted myself up. 

One foot up. 

Over.

Another. 

Over the rail.

My rear sitting on a thing bar. 

My feet were dangling and my grip was adamant. 

If I let go, I knew I’d slip off. 

I could do this—be strong. 

Be brave. 

“Ymir!?” 

I felt my hands fly up and everything in my stomach dropped. 

My eyes only saw white and dizziness as I fell.

And landing on my back on the concrete bridge. 

“Y-You ruined it,” I choked because I felt everything rush back to me—the memories. 

“Y—You—“

“Ymir! What the hell are you doing!?” Historia cried out, ripping her earbuds out and racing over to my side, staring with wide eyes. She gathered me into her arms, cradling my head in her lap, and I saw how deathly white her face was. 

“Ymir!? Answer me!”

“I—“I choked over and over. 

I couldn’t hold back my anxiety attack. 

I was cornered and I could only let the regurgitated mess spill out of my mouth like dam water. 

“My sister is in the psych-ward because of me,” I felt the tears glob out in hot, burning drips as I shook. 

“I—I was scared when it happened—she was the braver one of us.” I confessed. 

“Ymir? What is going on? I don’t—Ymir, come on, let’s go home, Ymir, let’s go there,” she eased, waiting for me to shift. 

But I felt so heavy and tired. 

Was this what Ilse felt all the time—the will to not even react to the world, pretend everything was just a movie and all you had to do was stay still and watch?

“Ymir.”

Hah.

I wasn’t even strong enough to stop functioning. 

Historia helped me up and we were walking back to her apartment in the early morning.   
Slowly, the falls’ siren call left my ears ringing, but indefinitely whispering the same message over and over. 

_You will come back one day._

_One day._   
.  
.  
.  
“Here,” Historia wrapped me in a blanket and I was still shivering, feeling disgusted and angry with myself for letting anyone see me at my lowest point. 

I didn’t look at her but only my hands. 

“…Babe…” her voice was always gentle. The pet name made something in me hurt less as I looked up at her, guilt written all over my face and poisoning my bloodstream. 

“…would you like to come here?” She asked and I got up until I saw that she was patting her lap. 

“…in your lap?”

“Yeah. Come sit in my lap.” She nodded.

I never sat in anyone’s lap before. 

Slowly, I went over and straddled her lap, facing her and then resting my head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me. 

I’m sure it looked stupid to see me practically crowding her, but I felt more at ease knowing she couldn’t see my face or my eyes. 

Couldn’t put a face to the weakness of my words. 

“You can tell me…if you want…or you can sit here…” She assured, kissing the side of my head and I felt her even trying to gently rock me. 

There was nothing to hide now. Even if I tried it would just be a slap in her face. 

“I have a sister,” I said slowly, taking my time with every word, pausing for different amounts of time to gather my thoughts and courage, trying to find words—any single word—that would hurt me less so I wouldn’t cry as I gave my sob story to Historia. 

“Her name is Ilse…she’s…she’s recovering in the ward…and it’s because of me.”

She didn’t respond. 

She gave me the time and space I needed without prying. 

“When we were young… my mother was an alcoholic… she’d have parties in our house downstairs and put us to bed upstairs and tell us not to come out.” I could almost hear the loud braying of laughs and drunken slurs, heavy footsteps, and blaring music vibrating through the walls. 

It haunted me at bars. 

It made me fear what I could not hear—someone approaching, their footsteps drowned out by the ruckus. 

“I was nine. Ilse was six… We slept in the same bed because we were poor.”

I used to love that because we’d play and talk all night before dozing off. It was nice to be together all the time and share secrets. 

I never thought of it until that night that it wasn’t good—it meant if someone got in our room then none of us could escape. 

“There was a man…who came in one night…” I tensed up and she stopped rubbing my back. 

“…Ymir, no…” she whispered, afraid. 

“He… I always slept on the edge of the bed…because it was against the wall…and—he was a—he was a bad man,” I felt more stupid tears stream down. 

“I was so scared when I woke up—I—“ I didn’t want to go into details. 

Details weren’t needed because I felt Historia kissing along my shoulder and the side of my head, arms protective around me, shielding me from the outside world. 

“I couldn’t scream for help,” this realization—this confession of my cowardice that made it go to shit—it hit me hard. 

“I—I was so scared and—why didn’t I scream and fight him?” I shook, unable to withhold the sobs that came from me. 

“I only cried! And—and—“

That’s—

“That’s when Ilse woke up and she—she saw,” I shook my head, “she—she was so much better than me, Historia—she—she shot up after realizing he was hurting me and—I had Papa’s pocket knife hidden in the windowsill behind the curtain—I don’t know why—but she grabbed it and in seconds was on the man’s back and—she just wailed on him—he yelled and screamed and fell, crying—and—“

“No, Ymir,” she was never going to let me go as I kept going—the words couldn’t stop. 

“I—I snapped out of it and ran downstairs, crying, and asking for help—trying to find my mother—but everyone ignored me—I—I didn’t know what to do as I kept crying. N-Nobody asked why I was upset until they heard a loud bang outside—the—the man tried to run away through the window and broke his leg from falling—and—and that’s when they saw him bloodied and stab wounds—and—Ilse locked herself up in the bathroom with the knife—and—“

I couldn’t go on as Historia kissed me over and over, trying to keep me away from the pain and memories, but they wouldn’t stop. 

It was where she couldn’t reach. 

But with time, her kisses and hands made it known that she wasn’t leaving—she wouldn’t let any harm come to me. 

“I…we had to go to court… I had to testify…I had to watch people listen to me…judge me—tell me I was a liar, and… I—I fucking hate people looking at me when I cry.” I almost wanted to laugh because I felt uncomfortable even now. Almost. 

“Mom lost custody…grandma and Papa took us in… the man went to jail…and Ilse was the same…but then she got worse and worse, Historia…she got worse until she stopped reacting… and we had to get her help—she… she—I couldn’t help her, Historia! I was so weak and scared—If I fought, she’d never feel—Historia, I’m a big fucking mess,” I tried to shrug her off but she held me even tighter. 

“No,” Historia spoke, firm and stern, but it was love—how could it not be?—, “it was that filthy fucking trash’s fault… He should’ve—he should’ve died.”

I couldn’t but shake more. 

I—  
“He was my uncle.” 

Historia pulled away so swiftly and held my face that I was stunned. 

“I will never let this happen, ever! You—I will protect you—and I will help your sister—you’re—you’re my family now, too,” she said it with such a fiery passion that I couldn’t deny her. 

“You’re my…you’re my girlfriend—my…my girlfriend,” I had an inkling what she was going to say. 

You’re my love, too, Historia. 

“And nothing will hurt you…not anymore… I will keep you safe…you’re safe with me.” She promised and I felt so weak and—it was all so much. 

I just fell forward, crying into her shoulder and she let me do this. 

She let me be weak and irrational. 

I didn’t have to hide from her at all. 

She was truly…the person I was beginning to love. 

I swallowed the thought that lingered in the back of my mind—it didn’t matter. 

That part of me I thought I’d have to bring up didn’t matter now. 

I had Historia, my girlfriend. 

I no longer had to fret over the fact—that if I was a lesbian because of what happened, or if I was just scared of men. 

It didn’t matter if I was uncertain of my own sexuality now. 

She was all I needed.

My Historia.


	9. Ambush

I could feel the sweat on my body.

The perspiration swelled into a drop, sliding down my stomach until it was absorbed into the band of my shorts.

I panted and released myself from my squat, standing straight and groaning a bit. I put the bar back onto its frame and sighed, tilting my head back as I felt the burn in my thighs and calves.

"Fuck."

Leg day would be the end of me.

I heard a small clap beside me as I tilted my head to the side, seeing Historia cheering me. Though, I could feel the cheek in it.

"Bravo," she teased, admiring my form.

"Hah," I rolled my shoulders, huffing, trying to take a breather.

"Told you," I managed, "the gym is better than just running once in the morning."

Historia smiled.

"I can tell—I get to see you working hard," she hummed, sipping from her bottle.

"Yeah? Well, how about you? Are you going to do anything than hog a treadmill here and there?" I nodded towards where she was earlier.

"Oh, ha-ha," she rolled her eyes.

"Unlike you, I don't think I'd look good being ripped."

"You might. Never know unless you try," I retorted, lifting my shirt up to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

"Oh, I do love your abs," Historia swooned, watching as my shirt rode up.

I laughed.

"Who doesn't?" I replied and she gently smacked my thigh.

"I don't know whether I want to slap you or kiss you," Historia stood up, pulling my shirt down from my face and poking my nose.

"Hoh? Well, if I had a say—"

"You have no say in this," she smiled and I felt my heart jump a bit.

Oh. I never thought of her to be a sexy control freak, but I was starting to humor that idea.

I opened my mouth to say something, but only a grunt came out when I felt my phone vibrating in my short's pocket.

"Hold on, control freak," I snickered and she pulled me close, kissing my cheek before I smiled, fishing my phone out and answering it.

"'Ello?" I propped it between my ear and shoulder.

"Ay! Lesbian!"

I frowned and sighed. It was Jean.

Some days I loved the shit out of him and other days—just like this one—I'd want nothing more but hear he broke his nose.

"What you want?" I asked and Historia glanced up at me, wondering why I was so sour. She wrapped my arm around her shoulder as we walked towards the locker room where we stuffed our clothes.

"Oh, stop being so pissy. I was calling you to say everyone is coming out and was wondering if you wanted to go—with your new girl, hm? Hm""

The fucker was pining for details already.

"Why couldn't you have text?" I asked because I wanted him to know I didn't want to hear his voice. Ever.

"Oh, because I thought we hadn't talked in forever and that you'd be oh so relieved to hear my beautiful voi—" I hung up on him and turned my phone on silent.

"…who was that?" Historia asked once we were in the locker room.

"A douchebag that I take pity on—a friend. Sometimes."

"Oh," Historia didn't seem to understand but there was really no explaining it better.

I quickly shot a text to Sasha for the location.

"Did you want to come out for drinks? Sasha and Connie will be there. Along with other people I know." I told her.

Historia hummed, thinking about it for a while as we went into our respective stalls and got to changing.

"I'm not big on drinking—"she mentioned, "and I'm not old enough…?"

"Oh, right, right," I sighed, kicking myself for not remembering, "well, we can find a place where you can go…like a restaurant or something?"

"But, Ymir, everyone decided to go to a bar—"

"Oh, whatever. I will text them and tell them to meet us at Tomato Street. They can get their beers and whatever there. Only person who'll complain is Jean because they don't have the most handcrafted fucking beer imported from Mount Olympus and pissed in by angels." I rambled on to show how pretentious he was.

"Oh, Ymir! Be Nice!" She laughed as I got out of my stall to see her already waiting.

"Well, he is that way."

"I'm sure he's not."

.

.

.

"Oh! Wow, she's smoking hot!" Jean clapped his hands together, smirking and sitting right across from us at the table. Everyone else sat down—Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Jean, Sasha, Connie, and even Annie was there.

Yet they kept pulling up more chairs.

"Oh, some others are coming, too!" Sasha smiled but Jean was all over Historia.

"Where's your squeeze, huh?" I muttered, trying to get him to back off as Historia only nervously laughed.

"Busy!" Jean dismissed me and leaned in.

"So, darling," he ran a hand through his overly done hair, "are you lesbian or bisexual?"

Historia turned a bit red at the sudden attention.

"Lay off, Jean," I growled but everyone else was busying themselves, pretending to not hear or whatever.

"W-Well… I think I only like girls."

"Oh! Too bad! How did you two meet? Fuck buddies?"

I glared at him and tried kicking him in the shin but only managed to land a blow on poor Armin who cringed.

"We met at the park," Historia seemed to brighten at that.

"Oh, I guess that's better than the bar," he huffed, disappointed there wasn't anything juicier.

"But—"

"How about you leave her alone," Mikasa suggested and that shut him up quick.

"Oh, I was only—"

"—making her uncomfortable." Annie added, sipping her water and glancing at the door a few times.

Jean just sighed, propping his chin up with a hand.

"Oh, come on, guys, Ymir always gives me shit! Why am I the bad guy?" He whined but I was thankful for the back up.

"Sorry," I apologized to Historia who only sheepishly smiled.

"Before someone made an ass of himself," I turned to the group, "this is my girlfriend, Historia Reiss."

"Glad to meet you!" Eren forgot his inside voice as Mikasa smiled.

"I am Mikasa Ackerman," she introduced, polite, "Eren's girlfriend."

"And I'm Armin," Armin grinned, hugging Eren from the side, "I'm also his boyfriend!"

Historia simply stared for a moment.

"Oh, that's," she paused before smiling, "that's something new. But also very nice!"

She realized that she paused and could've been taken for being rude.

"Oh, it's okay," Armin waved off, used to such a reaction. Eren on the other hand was embarrassed at the sudden attention.

Mikasa didn't seem to care.

"They're here," Annie spoke and we turned to see two tall men come in.

"Thanks for letting me invite my friends," she said, monotone, "this is Reiner and Bertolt."

...Reiner…?

I quickly shot a look to Historia who was horrified.

When I glanced back I saw Reiner smiling and then he saw Historia and froze, turning pale.

Everyone was quiet except for Annie who sat there, blank, and then sighing.

"Oh. I made a mistake."

"You don't say!?" I barked.

Reiner nervously laughed.

"Um…this is awkward…"

"What!? What's going on?" Jean asked, curious.

"Um—" Bertolt was sweating an ocean.

"We are…recent exes." Reiner scratched the back of his neck, sighing.

Practically everyone in the table cringed.

"Oh no," Sasha gasped, glancing between the two of them.

"Um, I can leave—" Reiner suggested but Historia cleared her throat.

"It's okay." She smiled. I was about to tell her she didn't have to play nice, but her hand was on my thigh under the table and I stopped.

"…Are you—" Bertolt nudged Reiner before he could finish and he nodded, deciding to be quiet and sit beside Annie. Thankfully, they were further down the table and not as seen.

I clenched my jaw and glanced to Historia, giving her a kiss on the temple as Sasha mended the awkwardness with questions for everyone to answer.

Usual small talk until the waiter came in and asked for our drinks and if any appetizers.

Everyone ordered some sort of alcoholic beverage and Historia whispered that she wanted some fruity boozy drink after all. I ordered a beer and the drink for myself and the waiter nodded, checking our cards and leaving.

I was going to ask Historia why the sudden change of heart, but I could see it written on her face—she was on edge and just wanted to relax.

I glanced down the table and saw Reiner staring at me. Once our eyes met he smiled and then looked away, talking away with Connie and Sasha.

The rest of the time in between was full of small, forced smiles and constantly glancing at Historia who was beginning to fidget. Everyone got their drinks and didn't waste time to down them, laughing and slowly sliding into a calmer state.

Even Historia drank all of hers and was red faced, smiling and chatting away with Mikasa and the two.

I kept holding her hand under the table as Connie was telling me about his father and how they'd be hunting back home soon.

"So," Jean opened his trap, "I thought you said you were a lesbian?"

All conversations stopped.

"Jean," I warned.

"But yet you were with Reiner, hm?"

"H-Hey, how about—" Sasha was interrupted.

"It's okay," Historia smiled. Quite drunkenly.

"I realized I was a lesbian after being with Reiner."

Jean made a painful hissing sound, glancing at Reiner.

"Oh man… what a sick burn."

Reiner didn't seem pleased at all as he stared down at his untouched food.

"So, you just said you were a lesbian and broke up with him?" Jean laughed.

"Jean! Shut the fuck up," I warned.

Historia stared at him and then me.

"Oh, no, that's not it," she clarified, "well, not all of it—I just didn't want to have sex with him."

"Ouch," Jean pulled away, shaking his head.

"Okay, that's enough," Annie glared at Jean, making him mortified, "stop acting like you're any better. From what I heard, you can't even keep a relationship past a week."

This time Eren choked on his food, barking out a laugh and slapping the table.

"Shut it, Jaeger!" Jean cried out in anger.

"Old wounds, huh?" Connie snickered at the fact Mikasa ignored Jean's obvious feelings and went into a less typical relationship. Which obviously hurt Jean's ego.

"God! I was only joking!" Jean growled but Annie didn't respond as she ate her dessert.

"I think I'm going to leave," Reiner stood up, frowning.

"Um, I will go, too," Bertolt shot up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair.

"I will be leaving, too." Annie stood up, glaring at Jean.

"Look what you did! You're such an ass!" Sasha hissed at Jean as he cowered in his chair.

"I'm sorry about Jean. He doesn't know when to shut up," Connie apologized profusely, upset that the others were offended.

"It's fine." Annie curtly responded as the trio got up and left, but Reiner put down a large bill.

"This is for all of our dinners." He muttered.

"Give the rest as a tip." He glanced over at Historia one last time.

"I hope you guys enjoy your evening." He threw on his jacket and walked out.

The rest of the group stared and then glared at Jean.

"Good going, dickhead!" Connie growled.

"You're such an ass!" Sasha cried, punching him in the arm.

"That could've gone better," Mikasa muttered as Armin sighed, rubbing his temples.

Eren only gave Jean an eat-shit grin.

"Oh c'mon!" Jean glanced to make sure Reiner and them were gone.

"Reiner is hot!" He admitted. He then glimpsed at Historia and I was near ready to choke him out.

"How could you not want to bang that?!"

"I said I was a lesbian," Historia said, short and to the point.

"Are you asexual?"

"Jean," Mikasa was getting tired, "she said she was lesbian. That means no to men. Absolutely no and nothing could really change that unless she realizes otherwise."

Jean just stared at Historia, waiting for the answer.

"Not everyone wants to bang everyone like you, Jean, "Sasha muttered, glancing at Historia.

But it seemed like everyone was just as curious.

Thankfully, Historia was slightly drunk and just smiled.

"I'm not asexual. I just—" she glanced at me "—I think I need the right person."

I felt my face turn fifty shades of red as I saw her smile as she leaned into me, happy.

"Aw," Armin squeaked, dying of the cuteness.

Eren stared.

"Wow, they're going to bang tonight." He said out loud and Mikasa shook her head.

"Bah, I don't get women." Jean muttered, running his hands over his face.

Everyone dropped the subject after that but I kept a strong hold on Historia. We picked at our food, taking small bites here and there but I was exhausted.

The whole tension with Reiner and Jean being a shitty person like usual… I just wanted to go home and sleep.

"I think we're done," I glanced at Historia to see she was even more tired than me.

"Yeah, we were thinking the same," Armin said as everyone stood up, retrieving their coats.

"You guys don't need a ride?" Sasha asked, used to taxiing me everywhere.

"Nah. Historia got a rig."

"Okay! Are you guys good enough to drive?" She asked, glancing at Historia in specific who was quite drunk.

"Ah, I can drive. I only had one beer." I shrugged and Sasha trusted me enough as she waved goodbye.

I took Historia's hand and walked out of the restaurant with her.

"You know, you didn't have to stick around when Reiner came… or answered Jean at all." I told her, upset that her first experience with my friends was a shitty one.

"Hm? Oh, that's okay!" Historia hummed, completely uncaring.

Maybe she didn't mind, or maybe she was too drunk to realize how bad the situation went.

"Alright. Well, let's get you home… mind if I crash at your place?"

"Oh! Yeah! Please, stay the night with me!"

I felt my ears redden but I knew I wasn't going to pull anything.

She was drunk and I was sober. I'd feel bad if I took advantage of her like some creep.  
.

.

.

Sometime, late at night, I woke up to hearing Historia's feet padding through the quiet apartment.

I heard her come up to my door.

Stop.

She was quiet and stood there for a long time.

I shifted in bed and I heard a small gasp.

I waited, wondering what she had to ask.

Slowly, the door was cracked ajar.

"Ymir?" Her voice was small and meek and… hah, it was sickly.

"Hungover now?" I asked, sitting up in bed.

She gave a pathetic laugh.

"Yeah…but, um…did you…I—I don't know why I woke you up for this." She was so shy.

I got up from my bed to show her I was quite awake.

"Hm?" I went to the door and found her in an oversized shirt—Oh.

It was one of the shirts I left over when I spent the night a few times.

"Um…did you want to…sleep in the same room with me…from now on?" She asked but I almost wanted to laugh because she was so sick.

"You ask this when you're probably dying, huh? Sure, sure," I chuckled, walking behind her as she shuffled in front of me, leading me to her room.

When we got there, I couldn't see how it was like—it was too dark in there.

All I knew was that we were nearing her bed when I heard her flop onto it. I nearly tripped on top of her.

I mumbled half an apology and a well-deserved curse as I crawled in behind her.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered and I didn't understand what.

"But…can we use separate blankets…? I-I know I'm being stupid but—"

"Nah. That's cool." Whatever she needed I'd be fine with it.

She probably grew up super conservative.

I snatched an extra blanket and nestled in, yawning, and then I felt her hand on my arm.

I froze and found that she was turning to face me.

She closed the distance and kissed me, slow and loving. I melted into it as I felt her deepen it with her tongue.

Tasted like toothpaste.

Ha-ha. She probably just brushed after puking her guts out.

Hah. Gross.

But I loved it nonetheless.

She pulled away after a moment, putting her forehead against the tip of my nose.

"…hold me?"

"Yeah."

She rolled to face away and I scooted up from behind her, pulling her close to my body and nuzzling her shoulder.

Immediately, I knew I really loved this—it made me feel… well, it made me feel safe and happy.


	10. The Scream

**[Warning: Heavier Content Ahead. Please Proceed With Caution.]**

I woke to Ymir’s arms around my waist and her mouth right against my shoulder, keeping it hot with her breath as she was still deep in sleep.

I lingered like this, enjoying the haze between consciousness and sleep. 

That is…

Until…

“Gkk,” Ymir rumbled, snoring obnoxiously once and then going back to her quiet slumber. 

I had to stifle the giggle that was threatening to bubble up as I carefully reached out for my cellphone. 

I unlocked it, ready to take a selfie of us. I always wanted to update my background anyways. 

One new text message. 

I exited out of it and quickly went to snapping my picture. It took a few tries to get the perfect angle where I didn’t look… well, look hung-over. 

Eventually, I got my prize and smiled.

Ymir always looked so beautiful and cool. Even in her sleep…especially so…

My phone vibrated, shaking me out of my daydreaming to see that I got another message. 

I opened it up and saw it was from a number I didn’t know. 

Probably spam. 

I read it.

My head hurt.

My stomach dropped. 

Everything went really quiet and loud at the same time. Just like in those movies when an explosion is nearby and deafens people. 

‘You will tell Ymir. I know she doesn’t know.’

The first text read. 

‘If you don’t tell her, I will.’

I felt the blood drain from my face as my hands shook, staring at the words, repeating them over and over in my head.  
Who was this?

Why was this happening? 

‘Who is this?’

A fast response. 

‘Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you tell Ymir and not lead her on like you did Reiner. You can’t keep pretending.’

My jaw clenched as I angrily jabbed at the keyboard. 

‘Is this Reiner? I swear to God if you are Reiner!’

‘No. You know Reiner’s number.’ 

I felt tears welling in my eyes. 

What was I going to do?

I could break up with her and—

‘No matter what you do, I will tell her tonight. She deserves to know regardless of what happens.’

‘Why are you doing this?’

There was a long pause in between. 

A moment too long went by. Enough to threaten to suffocate me as I choked on the lump in my throat. 

‘She deserves to know why you will leave her in the end or before you guys get too deep.’  
I blinked back the tears. 

‘Why? How do you know?’

There was no response. 

‘You’re a fucking asshole!’

There was a fast reply to this, too. 

‘I’m not the one lying to others.’

I felt my arm grow light as a feather, ready to assert my rage by throwing my phone against the wall, but I stopped when Ymir breathed really loudly—a breathy yawn. 

“Mm…Historia…you alright?” Her voice was heavy with sleep and slurring. 

“Um, yeah…”

“You sure…? You’re pretty tense…” Ymir nuzzled back into my shoulder. 

I was torn apart as I clung my phone close to my chest. 

This would be the last moment we had to ourselves and I had a picture of it. 

I didn’t know what was worse—that either I’d run like a coward and never know her anger, or that I would have to confess and I got to watch her gun me down. 

You should’ve got out of it while you had the chance, Historia. 

“Um…Ymir…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. 

“I—I have something to tell you.”

I couldn’t hear my own words as my mouth went dry. 

I licked my lips over and over but it never seemed to make the words caught in my throat easier.

“Yeah?” Ymir exhaled, pulling away a bit to stretch. She sat up, dazed, but nodding. 

“I’m game,” she cleared her throat and then yawning, raising her arms above her head in a hearty way. 

Why was I doing this…?

I couldn’t tell her that I had lied… that I saw myself in a way that many others didn’t agree with…

Ymir glanced at me. 

“You look…constipated?” Ymir remarked but I couldn't shake from this. 

It was the end.

I might as well…just make an ass of myself…

I mean, at least I could try and pretend she knew about it and accepted me as who I was—a girl. 

Sometimes a boy.

Mostly a girl.

Lost in between. 

I quickly grabbed her shoulders and kissed her, disregarding her morning breath as she froze and then returned my affections. 

“Mm…Historia…that…isn’t…talking,” she whispered between kisses. Her hands were on my cheeks and they were so warm. 

Like the coming spring would be. 

A spring without Ymir.

Her hands would never be like this anymore. 

“Shush,” I whispered, too stubborn to let this go and cry in defeat. Even if my whole body was shaking and I wanted no better than to run to the falls and hide away. 

“I just want us…together and in bed.” I told her and suddenly she pulled away, eyes lit up in surprise. 

“H-Huh?” She stuttered.

No more Ymir who was as shy and adorable as a puppy in a new home. 

“I want…to make love.” I told her again and she seemed starstruck. 

“Please, take me,” I told her, staring her in the eyes. 

Just pretend she knows and accepts it. 

This is us having our first time and not—

“…Y-You sure?” Ymir’s freckle dusted cheeks were red as clay as she leaned forward, putting our foreheads together. 

“Yes…” she saw how shaky my hands and body were. 

“We don’t have t—“

“I want to…It’s my first time,” it was a truth and lie at same time.

It was my first time.

I wanted to.

But not ever like this—not to scare Ymir away for good because I couldn’t say what I had to. 

Ymir was good to me as she always was, though—she stopped talking and kissed me deeply, hands roaming to my face and then down to my shoulders.

“I—I could at least,” she hummed against my lips, licking and kissing the corner of them, “brush my teeth.”

I couldn’t help it this time—a quiet chuckle came from my mouth.

It would be useless for her to do that. 

After all, once she learned she’d wish she did worse to me. 

Just like Reiner, right?

I shushed her by grabbing her shy hands and putting them to my chest. Upon contact, she shivered, almost moaning in my mouth as her palms were filled with me. 

Slowly, gently, kindly, and lovingly, she squeezed and kneaded, never leaving my lips as she felt me through and through as if she never felt a thing more pleasant than me. 

I didn’t want to rush but I felt myself slipping with each second, realizing she was going to find out within minutes. 

I felt the tears prick, but I wouldn’t let them fall. 

If they did, she’d stop and ask why because Ymir was sweet like that. And she wouldn’t continue till I said why, and I couldn’t lie to her anymore and I’d run away.

At the very least, Ymir deserved the truth…and to have an opening to express how betrayed she’d feel. 

“Historia,” she whispered, heated as her hands went lower and lower. 

I tensed up.

And she lifted my shirt up and I relaxed as I was exposed. I had only Ymir’s shirt and my underwear to protect me, but I was completely barren now.

If she looked down below, she’d see me. 

Her large hands covered my chest again and she finally pulled away, staring down at my collarbones and then my chest. 

“God,” she whispered almost in prayer, “you have the best t—um…y-you’re very pretty.”

I gave a small smile. 

The only one I could even afford now.

She lowered her mouth and I felt her hot tongue swipe over my neck, biting lightly but not leaving a mark. She trailed her mouth lower and lower till she had her way with my chest.

I felt it—the twinges of excitement and pleasure but it wasn’t enough to override the horror of knowing she was getting closer and closer. 

And then I felt her hand.

Lowering.

Going past my ribs, my stomach, and hips.

It gently stroked my thigh. 

“Relax,” she was so considerate, “I won’t do what you don’t want to, okay? We can stop.”

It was too late.

It had to be done.

I nodded.

She smiled. I knew she was aware I was as stiff as a board and that there might’ve been more to it, but she didn’t know.

Until now.

Her hand went to my underwear, cupping me and then she tensed altogether. 

She stared me, eyes widening. 

“…Uh,” she weakly smiled, blinking. 

I felt tears well up finally, unable to keep them at bay. 

“Y-Ymir,” I choked because she was slowly pulling back, but her hand stayed there. 

“…w-what’s in your underwear…Historia?” She asked, eyes frantically staring down at her hand which was covering my flaccid member. 

“Y—I—I’m so sorry,” I couldn’t stop whimpering as I covered my mouth, crying. 

In slow motion, I watched her golden eyes flash down, quickly removing her hand from my underwear and seeing the obvious bulge the girl underwear could never hide. 

Her eyes went wide as her shoulders went up as she jerked back, gasping loudly as if she saw a knife stab into her own foot. 

What I heard next was something I thought I’d never hear from Ymir.

Something I never wished to ever hear. 

And it rattled inside my bones, squeezing them so violently I swore I was going to puke up all my innards. 

Ymir screamed.


	11. My Hands, The Ocean

I bolted backwards as I felt my hand grasp only air and the world went upside down as I tumbled off the end of the bed. 

I felt my chest tighten—my throat constricting like someone had a collar on me, pulling and forcing me to see what I didn’t understand, force me to react. 

“Historia!” I yelled after my initial shock and yelp. I shot up, staring at her, bewildered with my hands and body shaking. 

“What the—You—you’re a boy!?” 

Historia quickly shook her head with tears and snot streaming down her face. 

“I—I’m just me!”

I didn’t—what the—she—she was so stiff earlier because she knew I’d—

“What the fuck!? Why didn’t you fucking, I don’t know, tell me like a normal fucking person!?” I barked, feeling raw and left bare. 

I never thought in my life I’d ever fucking touch one of those. Ever. 

Never. 

“Y-Ymir! Th-That isn’t—“

“What? Not fair!? Well, tricking me isn’t fair either!” I roared but I kept my hands to myself. I was better than to pop my knuckles to show her—fuck, she knew. 

She fucking knew how distraught I was over this. 

“Ymir, how was I supposed to tell you!? Telling you I am different than most isn’t as easy as telling ‘like a normal fucking person’!” 

“You could’ve fucking told me you were Trans! I would’ve fuck—“

“You would’ve left me! You would’ve not understood! And I am not Trans!”

“Yeah!? Well, fucking hell, Historia, telling me is better than fucking surprising me! You don’t know what I would’ve done!” 

I never wanted to touch that. 

I felt memories clogging up my brain, but they were shoved out by my emotions—betrayal and pain at seeing Historia so upset. 

She was bawling. 

“How am I supposed to describe anything to you, Ymir?! I don’t—I told you I don’t know what I am! But I’m not Trans! I’m not a girl! And I’m not a boy!”

I gritted my teeth, lowering my volume, trying to grab the situation by the horns. 

“Historia,” I attempted to be calm, because I didn’t want her to cry anymore, “you…you agreed you were lesbian and didn’t like boys…”

“I said I didn’t like boys! I didn’t agree to anything!” She shot back, hiccupping and gathering the blankets around her body. 

I knew what I touched—I knew how those two things felt—she had a supple chest that filled my palms. They were not fake or hard. 

Those were natural. 

And the thing between her legs was definitely not a packer. 

I breathed slowly and brought my hands up to my head, covering my ears for a moment, because I wanted no better than to run. 

But I was better than Reiner. 

Fuck. 

Fuck!

“You—I told you—of what happened to me—Historia, you can’t just—just do what you did and expect I was goi—“

“I expected you to leave!” She lashed out, glaring with red-rimmed eyes. Her aquamarine eyes were blue flames of self-loathing and bitterness. 

I flinched. 

I stopped completely. 

My mind was silenced. 

“Everyone leaves in th-the end! They see that and then they just wuh-want to leave me! I knew you’d leave wah-once I told you so I might as well—j-just fucking—just fucking make an ASS OF MYSELF!” She roared, clenching her hair and pulling at it in frustration. 

“Make you leave me f-for doing—f-for being an asshole! Th—Than,” she choked up again, wailing into her own hands as her body convulsed in fits of tears and anguish. 

I didn’t. 

I wouldn’t complete that sente—

“Th-Than leave me f-for who I was,” she gasped, hiding in her blankets, “I—I wanted nothing more than to be wih-with you and I kn-knew you’d leave…and i-if I could help it, Ymir… I’d make you leave for m-me being t-terrible than…th-than you re-rejecting my—my—“

I licked my lips. 

“—m-my love.” 

My heart clenched and I felt like worms were crawling on my dirtied hand, but it was going away. 

Slowly but never fully. 

“Wh—why wouldn’t you—“ I cleared my throat because I never saw someone break before me—I never saw a beautiful girl hate her own body with such a passion like it was the very source of all vile in this world. 

Never knew…what it might be like to live inside a cage made of bones, skin, and misplaced body parts. 

Ah.

I stared down at my feet. 

Here.

This is what she was saying—this is where I was like everyone. 

This was the moment she corrected me when I said we were too familiar and she whispered she wished we were two peas in the same pod.

We might’ve been but we were planted in different soil. 

I thought of it—I thought of her body—no, wrong—I thought of _her_ born in a wrong body when she told me only moments ago that she was neither boy nor girl. 

She had…it sounded…

“Why wouldn’t you…just give me a chance?” It came out like moths from my mouth, scattering everywhere and making me hold my own throat, trying to stop its dryness. 

This stilled her sobs. If only for a second. 

She pulled the hood of blankets from her bowed head, sniffling and wiping away at her face with the back of her hand. 

She glanced up at me, holding back more tears, or stopping. I didn’t know—I couldn’t assume anymore. 

She only caught my eyes once before staring off at her own hands. 

“It hurts,” she confessed, hiding her hands inside the blankets, “it hurts a lot, Ymir, to be rejected…not because of feelings…but because of who… _what_ …you are.” 

I felt my shoulders become rigid, because I realized she didn’t trust me like I wasn’t different from the others. 

And her bets were right on the money—I had reacted terribly. 

I bit my tongue, watching her, and hating the feeling that I was no better than the people she saw as guards to her prison. 

To never be yourself…

I would die if I had to hide my true self. 

“…I’m still here.” I muttered, low and weak. 

It was the only thing that made me different from Reiner and society—I didn’t run. I stayed and listened but I still was a fucking shitty person. 

I just—I never expected her to be… to feel that. 

“You are,” she agreed but it held no substance or warmth to go off of. 

I knew it didn’t deserve a gold star to say I was a little less shittier than others, but I was hoping she’d realize that I had the potential…that I was—I was trying to understand. 

“I don’t know why you are,” she whispered, “you have no obligation to stay… You don’t have to pretend to be the good guy.” 

She finally looked up, smiling bitterly like an angel dying because of some human’s hubris. Tears were still falling from her beautiful eyes, glistening off her rosy cheeks. 

“You can leave, Ymir, an-and you can pretend we never met… I won’t hold you against it…you really don’t have to pretend…in fact, it’d hurt me more if you stuck around just to make me feel better.” 

With every syllabul, she broke me down as my shoulders began to shake and I clenched my teeth, balling up my fists till I felt my knuckles strain white hot, and my breath stifled. 

“D-Don’t be an idiot,” I cringed, feeling my own cheeks go wet.  
Historia watched, unconvinced, waiting for me to flee. 

“I—I won’t leave you.” I averted my gaze to glare at the ground. 

“I—I fucking—I care about you, Historia,” I watched my hands twitch as I tried so hard to not cry more, because I fucking hurt her. 

I hurt my girlfriend so very much. 

“I—I’m not leaving you. Wh—why would I do that?” I seethed. I was planted and frozen in place with unbridled fury at myself. 

I only heard the shuffling of sheets and I saw Historia slide into my old shirt and walk over, quiet and forlorn. 

She didn’t say a word as she went in front of me. 

I didn’t move. 

Her finger tips were soft—seeking forgiveness—as she reached up to my face, gently caressing it as she stared up at my face. 

She ran her hand through my hair and to the back of my neck, carefully pulling me low to put our foreheads together, closing her eyes. 

My reverent hands slowly went up and cupped her face, brushing my thumbs over the face I grew to love day after day. 

We didn’t move or change.

She let the tears pour out and she cried into my hands, filling them with her unspoken sorrow and loneliness. 

She made me an ocean of her life. 

And I gave her sanctuary as I closed my eyes, exhaling and kissing her forehead, but never letting go of her. 

It was unsaid—I knew—but we’d find a way. 

Because love always did.


	12. It's Nice

Coffee on coffee tables. 

Us sitting on the same couch but facing each other—her knees up to her chest, my legs and arms crossed. 

We were doing things normal people did. 

We were fine. 

At least enough to be normal people right now. 

A surprisingly sunny day for late March—the sunshine glared on the large windows, casting a slightly comforting heat over us. 

I cleared my throat, removing my eyes from outside. 

“We…should probably talk it out more,” I confessed to Historia, because I don’t know if I could handle any more surprises. 

Who knew if she had more—I didn’t—I probably didn’t even really know the girl before me as much as I thought I did. 

Slowly, my mind was sticking the pieces together—remembering all the small details Historia gave of how she was different, she didn’t know who she was, and how she was truthful but secretive at the same time. 

Maybe I was a fool for not noticing sooner. 

The lack of interest of sex—or more so the fear of it—and the avoidance of relationships. 

It was almost humiliating how oblivious I was. 

“What did you want to know?” She asked, holding herself and peering at me from above her drawn knees. 

“I… Maybe I should know everything? Or most? I don’t know… I need to know…as much as I can, Historia…”

She didn’t seem discouraged. 

She was wary and I think the moment she tried to seduce me this morning was the moment she entirely gave up. 

“I was born this way—not that doctor’s or my parent’s knew. For all I was worth, I was born a ‘boy’.” She admitted. 

That made a bit of sense but at the same time I felt myself tense up. 

“It wasn’t until I grew older that they noticed something was wrong—I wasn’t getting sharper features. My voice was high-pitched. And I looked very much a girl.” She stood up, clearing her throat. 

“Let me show you.” She said. 

I utterly froze up.

“No,” she quickly shot her hands out as if to stop the train wreck happening in my mind, “I meant… I have baby pictures.”

I blinked a few times before curtly nodding, squeezing my eyes shut and then rubbing at them with my sweaty palms. 

She disappeared for only a short moment before coming back with a red bound photobook. She sat by me and I sighed, lightly leaning into her.

She gave a reassuring kiss to my shoulder and I felt the queasiness ease a bit. 

Why was I so scared over something like that?

It was stupid.

It wasn’t _that_ which hurt me but my—that man. Specifically only him. 

She parted the book and its plastic crinkled and creaked, showing how it was hardly ever opened. Maybe out of embarrassment and denial, maybe because it didn’t matter. 

The first pictures showed her ultrasound with pictures and letters of congratulations to the baby boy. 

Pieces of writing of her parents coming up with names—Dirk, Ulklin, Uri, and Kristopher. 

On the other side were female names if the child had been assigned female—Florian, Abel, and Historia. 

I snorted. 

Historia gave me a quizzical glance. 

“Thank God they didn’t choose Dirk.” 

Historia’s face bloomed into a beautiful, stupid smile as she lightly head-butted my shoulder. 

“That’s true,” she hummed. 

“So—which one?” I asked because the only one that seemed nice enough was Kristopher. 

And, so she turned the page and I got my relieved answer—Kristopher Reiss. 

Pictures of strangers at a baby shower and then a man and woman at the head of the table, smiling. 

Ah. 

Historia had the same color of eyes as her father, but he wasn’t very handsome. Her mother was, though. 

She was very pretty—Historia must’ve stole it all from her. 

I licked my lips as she went through the pages of her mother’s pregnancy pictures, when she was born, and a little copy of her birth certificate. 

“Remind me to steal that when I want to take your identity,” I told her. 

“I will leave a post-it note,” she remarked and we finally got to her childhood pictures. 

“So,” my eyes were searching for the hints of Historia being herself—being the person she was now. 

“Do they still…call you Kristopher?” 

“Mm…since I dressed to how I feel, they call me Krista. I prefer Historia, though.” She hummed, thoughtful and glancing at me. 

“It must be confusing for you…to be told all of this.” 

I shook my head. 

“Nah. It’s pretty simple. You want to be called Historia. That’s all I need to know or care about.” 

She nuzzled further into my shoulder as we humored over her childhood. 

Truly, I could tell we were both a bit afraid but we were also brave enough to stand through it together. 

We both were going to make this work—I just… 

“Um, I just,” I muttered when she got to pictures of when she started wearing dresses, “I just…wanted to say…I reacted terribly and…I’m sorry…I don’t think of you any less…”

It had been bubbling in the back of my throat since it happened, but I was so choked up and ashamed at how I reacted that it almost hurt to say it. 

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole,” Historia sighed, “I should’ve…been truthful and given you a chance before…practically forcing you into something—it was terrible of me… and the worst.” 

We both glanced at each other, letting the apologies sink in. 

“We’re just terrible people,” Historia murmured. 

“Normal people,” I corrected, “people act weird all the time…and stupid. We just did it at the same time.”

Historia was fond of that answer as she shook her head, smiling and closing the photobook after we finished our browsing. 

“I was born intersex, have you heard of that?”

“I have.”

“I am both genders, Ymir.” She explained and she said it so confidently—I admired her. 

I loved her so much. 

“I have breasts like a woman…and you know the rest.”

She glanced down at her own lap, fiddling with her hands. 

“And I know you’re lesbian…and some people don’t think—some people think if you have—“

“What do you mean? I am a lesbian.” I deadpanned and she flinched a little.

Just subtly as if she was hiding her worsening fear. 

“That’s why I’m with you, aren’t I?” 

She flashed a thankful glance but I wasn’t doing her a service—I just stated a fact. 

“Sometimes, Ymir, I feel very much a woman…and sometimes, some days, I like how I am—that I’m more than a gender. I’m me. I love being me. And that’s not lesbian because I’m not female—I’m in-between.”

Of all the months I attended the LGBTQ club with Sasha I had never heard of an in-between. It had always been one or another. 

Asexuality, aromantic, bisexual, pansexual, polyamorous, lesbian, gay, straight, transsexual, queer, demisexual—the list went on and on and I knew there was more but I had only ever been exposed to that.

I heard of intersex—it existed outside of my life—but I never knew what it might’ve inferred. 

And I didn’t know what it meant to me. 

For a long time, I had hid the fact that I didn’t know what I really was—I watched straight porn on occasion. Some of it was nice. A lot of it not so much. 

I watched lesbian porn, too. 

And gay men.

I watched a lot of things, hoping it might shed light on whether it was my trauma that kept me from finding out who I was—to see if I was hiding parts of myself. 

But nothing ever said much. 

Didn’t help my friends made me feel confined to a single orientation—saying I was too gay to even like men. 

Over time, it became a part of me—being lesbian. I fell into the culture and clichés just as neat as a puzzle piece. 

“I know…that you love me and I love you,” Historia’s voice was so far away while my head swam with thoughts, “but I don’t want to…I don’t know, Ymir. I don’t want you to think… I don’t know if I will ever get an operation done to ‘fix’ me, and I don’t want to think of the day that happens it turns out to be something you aren’t into…do you understand?”

I was at a crossroad in my life. 

Historia was something much more than petty categories—she was above labeling herself and trying to fit into neat little packages. 

Was I able to keep up with that?

“Do you want to get an operation done?” I asked into the heavy air. 

It was getting really hot with the sun beating down on us, magnified by the windows. 

“…Some days I feel like that’s my only option.”

“But, do you want it—if you could choose whatever you want and no matter the choice you’d be given happiness, what would you choose?”

I stared at her, eyes softening. 

“…W-why does it matter?” She was scared again.

It was plastered all over her face like I was giving her an ultimatum. 

“I want to know what you want.”

She began to curl and play with the ends of her hair, thinking.

She opened her mouth a few times but stopped, finding every phrase too much or too little. 

Until she found her words. 

“I would want to be myself…no operations.”

She was disappointed in herself as she said it. 

I nodded, slow and sure. 

“Then I will…I will love you just the same.”

I heard her gulp down whatever air was stuck in her throat as she stared at me. 

“But…don’t you like—“

“I don’t know what I like either… but I do know I love you and I want to be with you.” I told her and she sat back quickly. 

Eyes staring wide at the wall. 

I didn’t need any other words as I brought her into my lap, giving her shelter as she clung to me, crying.

Crying so happily and scared. 

I kissed her cheek and neck and rocked her as she whispered raw words into my neck’s skin, soaking me with her relief. 

“I fell for Historia,” I reminded her as she nuzzled deeper into me, “not your gender.” 

I didn’t know how she felt but she quelled her silent tears as she pulled away, staring at me. 

“How do I know…you’re not saying that just to try and be nice?” She asked, cupping my face and examining my eyes, searching for lies. 

It hurt a little to hear it, but I knew she was scared—doubtful that she probably heard words she never thought she would. 

“I’m not a very nice person.” I replied and she considered it and it seemed to be reasonable enough as she chuckled, releasing her hold on me and kissing my chin. 

“That’s right—you punched Connie on our first date.”

“To be honest, he sort of des—wait.” I stopped. 

I stared at her.

Her eyes widened only a fraction, stilling. 

“When he—you fell and—Oh my God—Historia! He racked you, didn’t he!?” I gaped, mortified. 

I jostled her in my lap as her face went red as she laughed loud, making the walls of the house shake as I cried out. 

“Historia! I’m so sorry! I should’ve kicked him in the balls to make up for it! Ugh! Historia!” I groaned, leaning back as she was still cracking up in my lap.

But it only brought more questions as I shot up, almost headbutting her. 

“Wait! When we were making out, when I gave you a piggy back ride, why didn’t I feel it then—wait, am I a bad kisser? Because when we made out I was super fuc—“ her hand went over my racing mouth. 

“Do you really want to know about that?” She asked clearly like she was about to explain something terrible to a child. 

Despite the little smile on her face. 

“…well, yeah—you’re my girlfriend—uh, significant other?” We’d have to work on how I called her. 

“Girlfriend is fine… I like girl terms more. They’re cute.”

“Hah. Alright…but, I do want to know…how you, um, hide it? Wait, is that bad to say it that way?”

“Yeah. Hide. Don’t worry about it, Ymir—you’re not walking on pins and needles with me. Just be you and I know you’re being sincere.” Historia assured, kissing my cheek this time. 

“Well, there’s a thing call tucking—“

“Like on RuPaul’s Drag Race?” It dawned on me. 

“Yeah, just like that.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, sometimes, it’s uncomfortable…especially when you get turned on,” she admitted. 

“…so you…you tuck all the time?”

“No, not all. Just—um, just when I’m with you.”

“Oh…well, um, are you…well, you don’t have to do that anymore… I will—I will get used to it and all…Just, I don’t want you uncomfortable.” I was readjusting my sitting arrangement.

I couldn’t help it.

I kept glancing down between her legs as if I’d suddenly just see it more often. 

She caught on and glimpsed down herself. 

“…Are you curious?”

The light atmosphere that we somehow achieved was shot down and I felt my face flush as I tilted my head away but not quite looking away. 

“Ah, I won’t tease you,” Historia schooled herself but I licked my lips. 

Eventually, I’d have to see it. 

And I knew I could accept it one way or another. 

It’s just… wasn’t it just very—well, non-romantic to just one day been shown it?

Especially after the fight it just seemed like bad timing…

I looked her in the eyes and saw she wasn’t bothered one bit. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to peek,” Historia’s cheeks reddened a bit at saying it. 

“I…it’s fine?”

I was very much aware of how my skin was heating up and the choked up feeling in my throat. 

Historia nodded, pulling away from me and then standing—still wearing just my shirt and her underwear hidden underneath its length. 

“If it’s too much, Ymir, don’t push yourself.” She eased, not moving an inch until I spoke. 

“I—yeah, I… I want to see…to understand…” I tried to explain it but I think she knew what I was trying to say—that I wanted and had to get used to it.

This was a part of her that I would grow to love like the rest of her. 

How could I not? It was Historia. 

“Okay. You can tell me to stop.” 

It was then that I saw Historia was fumbling and her legs were shaking a little—oh, oh, oh, she was just as nervous.

It made me feel a bit better to know we were on equal footing. 

I felt a shiver go down my spine as I saw her small hands lift up the shirt, showing her underwear. I could see the outline of it a bit. 

Not all but most. 

It wasn’t something I was used to seeing except in the porn videos I watched—even then it wasn’t like this. 

The usually were fully erect. 

I inhaled sharply and she shot me a worried look. 

I gave a rigid nod.

The only time I saw a real life dick was accidentally walking on Connie pissing in the woods when we were hunting and when Jean was drunk off his ass and somehow fell asleep on the floor half naked. 

She shimmied her hips a little, tugging down the underwear. It trailed slower than I thought ever imagine. 

Before I saw anything I saw her thick pubic hair—light brown and blonde. 

It never occurred to me if shaving down there with a dick would be harder or easier. In fact, I didn’t expect anything down there because Historia seemed to shave everywhere.

Except there.

Maybe she didn’t expect having to upkeep it due to thinking nobody would see. 

Another inch and a few. 

I saw the base—it was thick. 

Like, really thick. 

My eyes widened, expecting to see her whip out something large, but it was just…thick and small. 

I just stared.

She...Yeah.

Yep.

That was a dick…and balls. 

But—

“Um,” she shyly hid herself with the shirt, “I…ha-ha…”

For once I thoroughly embarrassed the vixen. 

“I—wow—um, what you think?” She completely didn’t know what to say. I could see it written across her face that she realized how awkward it was to reveal herself. 

Especially to a woman like me, lounging on her couch and just staring like a judge. 

I furrowed my brow a bit.

“It’s…um, it’s…” I didn’t know what to say either. 

“Uh, I am surprised?” I tried to reason because she was beginning to get really anxious. 

“It’s—it’s thicker than most—er, like, I saw Connie’s and Jean’s—uh, on accident! It’s thicker than theirs! Um, good job! Uh—but, like, uh, it’s not that…very big like the ones I saw in porn and I—um, it’s a good dick! Uh, yeah, it’s—Historia?”

Historia’s eyes were just wide in horror as she cupped herself. 

Oh God.

Wait.

People were always self-conscious about—Oh no! I called her small!

“Wait, it’s a good dick! I love it!” I yelled loudly as she groaned, racing away to her room, probably wishing she could die of embarrassment as I chased her to only her door to give her space. 

“I—I love it! It’s beau—ugh. Historia, it’s—I—It isn’t scary to me! It’s, um, you—I—Jesus Christ, Historia, throw me some slack—how am I supposed to compliment a dick? Dicks are just—dicks! There’s no words to describe a dick as ‘pretty’!” 

I whined, knocking at her doors like a puppy crying to get back inside from being booted out. 

I listened.

And I heard her laughing. 

She was right against the door as I felt it shudder from her laughs. 

“I—why did I show you!? That was so—so unromantic!” She was giggling away as I felt myself grin, blushing and itching the back of my neck, leaning my back against the door. 

“It—it was something! Maybe next time you should give me a lap dance before whipping out the Reiss?”

“The Reiss!? Oh God! Ymir! Shut up!” She couldn’t breathe. 

I laughed with her. 

“Maybe put some rose petals on it so it’ll be romantic? Huh?”

“Ymir! You’re a dork! Go make breakfast! I’m hungry and I will change and we can go out somewhere today!” 

I snorted.

“Alright, alright, I will be the good housewife.” I shook my head leaving, feeling silly.

It was nice, though.

It felt…normal.

It felt right—perfect almost.

I grinned, hugging myself.

Historia was amazing.


	13. People Change

“Hey daddy,” Historia was stirring the pot of dumplings as I was making pieces of fry bread. 

I glanced at her as she looked up at me, smiling with those beautiful blues. I couldn’t help but snatch a quick kiss on her lips despite her father talking to her on the phone. 

Historia gently bumped her hip into me, lightly scolding me for being mischievous as she hummed in agreement to something.

“Good, how’ve you been?” She asked, moving out of the kitchen area to sit on the bar stool, leaning against the island. 

She watched me but her eyes were listless, listening intently. 

From beyond the cellphone, I could hear a deep and very muffled voice—only catching bits and pieces that didn’t piece together good enough. 

I playfully grabbed a large piece of dough, balling it up a bit and then spreading it out with my thumbs until it made a fluffy disc. 

Historia watched me as her father kept talking. 

I spun it about on my fingertip and I could see it amused her greatly as her smile widened. She propped her face up with her hand, enchanted and curious as to what I was going to do. 

I winked and she had to hold back a giggle. 

“Oh,” she schooled herself quick, playfully glaring at me, “I’m listening.”

But I wasn’t done. 

I stuck my finger through the middle of the dough, making a hole like I always did for every piece. She thought not much of it, trying her very best to give her father her undivided attention. 

However, instead of throwing it on the lip of the dough bowl like the rest, I stuffed two fingers through that hole, widening it and making a come hither motion. 

Historia gasped and cried out, laughing, throwing a fleck of dough and flour at me, causing me to pull back, snickering. 

“Krista?” This time I heard the man as he was amused yet curious, too. 

“Who is that in the background?” 

Historia held back the rest of her giggles as I corrected my defiled fry bread, grinning toothily at her. 

“That’s Ymir,” she rolled her eyes, deciding the gig was up. 

I stopped what I was doing, clearing my throat and watching what she had to say. 

I felt uncertain very suddenly. 

I didn’t think Historia would mention me at all—not that I was helping it—but now her father knew about me, but was he really going to know about me? 

So, I gave her my attention, looking at her phone she sat on the counter, putting her father on speaker. 

“Ymir? That’s a unique name,” her father commented and then paused.

“Ah, Krista, did you put me on speaker?” He asked. 

I was expecting annoyance and anger, but he seemed not to care. If not a bit pleased. 

“Yeah, I did, daddy,” she huffed, blowing her bangs from her view, and then looking at me expectantly. 

I wasn’t sure what was she wanted. 

I stared at her and then put my arms out, shrugging a bit and pointing at the phone. I felt a little nervous as I strained my lips between my teeth—I never had been ever introduced as the kind of gal to bring home to your parents. 

I was more of the sneak out the back door girl—well, that’s how I was treated anyways. 

“Is your friend Ymir able to hear me?” He asked, shifting the phone. 

Historia glanced up at me and mouthed something. 

This is your chance to run.

My eyes opened a bit wider and I desperately gestured at the phone—did she want me to introduce myself—if so, who was I—was I her friend, her lost long sister, a pizza delivery gal, or the stalwart captain of S. S. Run from Daddy?

Historia laughed more.

“Krista?” Her father chuckled. 

“Yes, she can,” Historia flashed her smile and patted near the phone, giving me the okay as I audibly groaned. 

“Hey there,” I answered, uncertain what I should say, or if I could still take my ticket to run. 

“Oh, hello—so you can talk!” He laughed heartily—full like wine. Hopefully not as bitter. 

I crumbled against the counter, feeling miserable because I had no experience or understanding of what I was supposed to do. 

Thankfully, Historia pitied me. 

“She can,” Historia teased a bit, “she’s shy, though.”

“Shy?” I shot, playfully wounded. 

Her father hummed in agreement as he cleared his throat. 

“So, Krista-dear, who is she?” He didn’t even beat around the bush. 

I stared at her, feeling the need to hide a bit. 

Wasn’t she still in the closet—or something? 

Would they prefer—did they want her to be a guy or girl—and what sexuality did they want? It was hard to remember. 

All I knew was that Historia was happy being her, not the expectations others put on her. 

“She’s my girlfriend,” Historia happily stated with a smug matter-of-fact. 

Her father was quiet for awhile and I nearly toppled over, face burning. 

Oh God.

He knew.

That meant I’d eventually have to meet him, wouldn’t I? 

Oh God.

If he saw me—oh God, was he the kind of rich person who only wanted white rich kids to marry their white rich kids?

Or was he the kind with the shotgun in the back of his truck, waiting for any reason to pull the trigger on my ass?

What if both?

Oh God.

“Oh! I knew it,” he chortled, “oh, Krista, I’m so very happy for you.”

It…wasn’t exactly the answer I was expecting as I peered up from the counter up at Historia who was practically glowing in pride to claim me. 

“Thanks, daddy,” she sang.

“Oh, I’m so very happy!” He repeated, slapping what I would assume a counter or desk in exuberance. 

“Ah, clear your schedule this weekend darling—I’m coming to the West Coast! I must undoubtingly meet her! She must be a real treat to have captured you! Ah! What’s this?” He paused, quiet, suddenly very serious.

Historia blinked, glancing down at the cellphone.

“Uh…?” I let out, scared, waiting for him to realize I was no good or that she said girlfriend instead of boyfriend, or something. 

“Ah, yes, I can hear it clearer,” he slowly began with realization, “it is… wedding bells!”

I groaned loudly and Historia scowled the phone.

“Daddy! No! Let her be!” She defended my embarrassment. 

“I heard grandchildren!” 

“No!” Historia cried out. 

“I hear—ah! Five of them!” 

“I’m hanging up!” Historia drawled out, finger going towards the button. 

“Okay, okay, but, really—this weekend, I want to visit! No exceptions!” He merrily told her. 

“Ah, there is so much to discuss!” He mused before laughing more and hanging up. 

I shot Historia a look. 

“Wedding bells!? Grandchildren!?” I bemoaned. 

Historia laughed, sliding off the stool and going around to hug me from behind. 

“Oh, there, there,” she soothed, snickering, “he just teases.”

“Yeah! I can see it runs in the family,” I snorted, grabbing her wandering hands from going up my shirt to feel my abs. I put them back above my shirt and she sighed in disappointment. 

“You will be okay,” she promised, kissing my shoulder blade and nuzzled her face in-between them. 

I let her stay like that, pausing my tongue and thinking of what was scaring me the most—the thing I was afraid to bring up because I knew it gave her grief as I remembered what she said to me earlier this morning. 

“Wasn’t he the one who wanted you to be a boy?” I asked, gentle as I turned around so I could hold her, too. 

The smell of the chicken broth and dough was faint as I was became overwhelmed with her scent of lilacs, vanilla, and spring rain. 

“Yes,” she knew, too, then, of what I was thinking. 

We were quiet again as she tilted her head, resting her cheek against my collarbone. I savored how she felt against my body as I kissed the top of her head. 

“He’s not coming here to congratulate us, is he?” I finally asked, because that’s the first thing that came to my mind when he asked of me—I could hear how he was prying, hoping and betting his money on his own wishes. 

“He will…” she moved to kiss my neck and I felt something hot and light roll down my body—making my knees weak and my heart beat louder. 

“He will just… be my dad, too.” She admitted and pulled away to hold my hands and stare up at me. 

I saw her disappointment in her eyes. I saw the tiredness, too. 

She put up such a happy façade for him, knowing what he thought he was going to cleverly do. 

“And what is that like?” I asked, taking one of my hands away to lift it up to her bangs, brushing them away. She leaned into my head, taking comfort, as I caressed her face. 

“He will talk your ear off, he will laugh and be good—but he will steer the conversation so he could hear what he wants… he’ll probably ask how long we were together, maybe say something inappropriate and blame the wine, but use it as leverage to be overbearing—he’ll probably find out—one way or another—if we were intimate…and he’d notice how okay you are with it and then he will probably say it’s settled. He will probably make it seem I want the operation and tell you how much it’d help me—make my life easier, better, and perfect. All that jazz.” She went on and on, sighing. 

“He will try to work us into what he wants. Not because he doesn’t care for my happiness, but because he thoroughly believes that is what will be best for me in the end… to put a stop to my depression and things.” Historia was very tired. 

Oh, I could just feel it on my hands—the exhaustion accumulating there, warm and heavy. 

“Sounds like you’ve heard it all before.”

“Over a thousand times.” She scoffed but I garnered a smile out of her when I kissed her nose.

“Then, I will just ignore it as best as I can.”

“Oh, Ymir,” she pulled away, going back to checking on the dumplings, reminding me we had dinner to cook. 

I went back to prepping as I kept an eye on the grease and over my shoulder where Historia stood. 

“You don’t know my father,” she continued, “he could charm the skin off a snake.”

“And you know how stubborn I am,” I retorted and I heard her giggle. 

“I do, I do,” she stopped, walking over and gently swatting my butt with the hot, wooden spoon.

I jumped and felt my shorts dampen, sticking to my ass cheek as I whipped around. 

“You little brat,” I poked her nose with a powdered finger and she went cross-eyed for a moment, staring at her now whitened nose. She corrected herself, staring up at me and laughing—it filled her frame, the room, and my heart. 

“Dork.” She had her arms around me again as I shook my head, going back to finishing the fry bread and defending myself from roaming hands trying to get up my shirt. 

Almost—just almost—forgetting of the impending doom of the weekend.

**-x-x-x-**

_Be safe._

That’s what Historia said when Connie texted me and said that someone wanted to meet up and talk to me. 

I wasn’t sure why it couldn’t be texted or why Connie wouldn’t budge on who was there, but he did promise he was going to be there with Sasha. 

I brought my coat closer to my body, shivering. 

All the damned snow was gone, leaving the world bald with yellow grass and barren trees that held little sprouts—a shit promise of spring. 

I shouldered the bar door open, thankful to be somewhere warm and that it was a slow Tuesday night. 

I glanced around and saw Connie and Sasha playing pool. Though, they were goofing off more than anything, earning annoyed glances from the bartender. 

Connie nodded behind him to a booth where—Bertolt? 

I frowned.

Why the fuck was he here? 

I turned, searching for the fat gorilla he shadowed but found nothing. 

I gave Connie a look that told him it better be worth it. Like hell was I going to sit through a guy confessing his attraction to me.

Connie only shrugged and went back to entertaining Sasha as I trudged past and flopped onto the seat across from the man. 

“What is it?” I asked, wanting to get it over with. 

Bertolt was sweating with her hands shaking as he stared down at his untouched plate of fries. 

Fuck him. 

I grabbed a handful and put them on the table, eating and dipping messily into his sauce, waiting for him to get angry at my rudeness and blurt whatever it was out—hopefully show him how unattractive I was. Just in case he still thought I was confession worthy. 

“Thanks for coming,” he blurted and jumped, startled from himself but nodding. 

Was he giving himself an inner pep talk? How pathetically cute. 

“Come on, spit it out—I want to get back to my girlfriend’s place.” I grumbled.

Plus, I had school tomorrow—she had school tomorrow—all I wanted was to talk with her a bit before we passed out on her bed. 

“I-I don’t know if Historia told you,” he began, looking at his own hands and up at me repeatedly. 

I felt something in my stomach squeeze tight, afraid. 

What was it this time—please, don’t be a secret, please—

“She’s—she—she isn’t quite as she says—she shows—um, she—um, when her and Reiner were toghether, um, I don’t know what she said, but, uh—she—er…she is—she has…--um.” He kept twiddling with his thumbs. 

It hit me and I knew exactly what he was going to say. 

And I also had enough fucking sense to know Sasha had ears like a fucking hound dog when she wanted to hear something juicy. 

I glared at him, slapping the table enough to jostle him but not bring attention to us.

“Yeah, I know,” I said slowly so he knew. 

His eyes widened and then he seemed to calm down a lot.

“And…she told you?” He asked. 

“Yeah, she did—this morning.”

Something flashed across his face—anger? 

Defeat?

I didn’t know. 

All I could see was his wet and stupid face. 

“Oh…that’s good, then…and I assume…you two talked about it…?”

Why the fuck was he prying?

I stood up, finding that I came out here all for fucking nothing. 

I snatched his almost full bottle of beer and poured it over his fries. 

“Fuck you,” I growled.

His eyes just watched it froth and soak up in his fries, leaving them soggy with a sad amber puddle at the bottom of the boat. 

“…So you broke up,” he concluded and I had never wanted to slap a person as much as I wanted to do to him. 

“You stupid ignorant—“

“No fighting,” the bartender yelled loud enough, glaring at us as he served his other patrons who took child-like interest in us. I could practically feel everyone in here wanting to witness a fight. 

I hissed and then shot a glare at the stupid fuck. 

“Fucking stay out of my business—and, what the fuck, where’s your fucking boyfriend anyways, huh? Can’t fight his own battles in attempt to sabotage his ex’s relationship?!” I marched out as Connie gaped. 

“You set me up, man!” He barked at Bertolt in dismay as Sasha went for me but I shook my head, brushing her off. 

Bertolt hadn’t moved an inch when I gave him one last look.

So that’s what Historia meant after she showed me the texts and what Connie had to say—fucking hell. 

Stupid bullshit.

I bit my tongue, wanting nothing better than to bum a cigarette and chill out, but I knew my girl was back at home, waiting. 

Probably stressing, too. 

I hit the bus up—my leg bouncing all the way—until I finally got back home—I mean Historia’s place. 

By the time I opened the door, Historia was walking down the hallway, looking at me. 

“Who was it?” She asked, knowing very well I was pissed off at the person.

“Fucking Reiner’s bitch—Bertolt! He was about flap his fucking trap around about y—he had the nerve to think I’d—“ 

I felt so fucking ashamed of myself.

I felt so fucking stupid. 

Goddammit! 

I balled my fists up as I held back what stupid self-pity was bubbling behind my eyes, threatening to break the dams and let loose angry tears. 

Bertolt fucking—it was like he—

“Oh, Ymir,” she took my hand, leading me back to the bedroom as I clenched my teeth, grinding them, hoping it’d just stop what I felt. 

She stripped me of my jeans and coat, helping me into bed and holding me from behind, kissing my shoulder over and over. 

Her hands never wandered as they held my own against my stomach. 

I just—

Did people really think I would leave after hearing that?

Did—did they really think—it hurt to admit it, but maybe if it was different—maybe I would’ve—

“Let it go,” she whispered. And I didn’t even know if she knew why I felt so guilty for that moment. 

That if things were different and she told me right away that maybe I would’ve walked away. 

Maybe we would’ve never ended up together because I was as petty and shallow as Bertolt had betted on. 

I felt so small as Historia loved me. She was full of strong, flourishing emotions and I was just so—pathetic and narrow minded. 

I rolled over, facing her and kissing her and she gave me gentle kisses that turned into restrained passion. 

I kept kissing her, hoping to drown in her perfect, flawless love.

It worked halfway but I felt her pull away, clearing her throat as I felt a thread of saliva between our lips. 

It was then I felt her swelling in her boxer-briefs, feel it throb against my leg. 

“You take me too well,” she laughed, embarrassed and grabbing something behind her. She put it between us—ah, the extra pillow.

“Sorry,” she apologized as if it was bad.

But it wasn’t.

It never was. 

I grabbed the pillow and threw it to the side.

“It’s fine.” I told her and I heard her pause, thinking. 

“People get horny for their girlfriends, right?” I tried to reason, try to make it casual enough for her to not look too deeply upon it. 

She exhaled, gentle and amused. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she was still uncertain as I rolled over, giving her my back again, but pushing back into her. 

“We should sleep, right?” 

I felt it right against my rear—no… I felt _her_ there. 

Historia was right there, hot and bothered. And I should’ve—I should—do something about it but I was too scared that it’d show across my face that I was guilty for being stupid before. 

I didn’t want us to fuck around just so I could prove to myself I wasn’t that way. 

I wanted…I just wanted her love. 

I wanted to be held and I wanted her to know one day we could have sex. Maybe not tomorrow but one day she could have me and I could have her and it would be out of love. 

Not guilt.

I could feel her forced breathing, her shifting, uncertain, but also very—well, very troubled with the fact my ass was against her cock. 

“Um, g-goodnight, Ymir.” She squeaked, wrapping her arms around me.

“Are you going to be okay?” I couldn’t help but tease just a little. 

“It’s, uh—um, I’m just—this is so new…”

“I know. I have a fucking amazing ass.”


	14. Coming Together

“Hold on,” Historia held my arm as she kept me in the car. 

She brought the sun visor down and pulled her purse into her lap. She dug around in there and fished out different bobbles of things and began to apply it to her face. For the fifth time. 

“You look great,” I promised, patting her knee, but she gave me a glance that told me to be quiet and let her gussy up in peace. 

“It won’t matter, really,” I chuckled and she pouted as she touched up her blush, “you’re pretty no matter what. And, remember, I’ve held your hair up when you were throwing up a lung.” 

The edge of her lips tilted upwards. 

“Shush,” she lightly scolded despite the grin that was on her face. 

“C’mon, let’s just go. It’s only a short visit.” I opened my car door and she huffed, snapping the compact mirror close—how many mirrors did she really need?—and nodded. 

“Fine…yeah…I just want to be…presentable.”

“Squeaker, you look great,” I assured and slid out of the car, closing it. 

Historia lingered a little longer inside and came out, smoothing her skirt down. 

“I’m just nervous.”

“I know,” I went around the car and grabbed her hand, squeezing it, “I am, too.”

I wasn’t just saying it to make her feel better either. 

“I know,” she lightly teased, wiggling her fingers in my grasp, “your hands are sweaty.”

I snorted, swinging our arms as we went inside. 

I felt my throat constrict a little, remembering how it was these days—Ilse was back to being reticent except when Armin was around. 

I was beginning to think she had a crush on him by the way she admired how he studied and told her about what he was learning. 

Those two were big, fat nerds, but one of them was already taken and I didn’t have the heart to tell. And I didn’t know if Armin knew how my sister looked at him. 

The bell over the door rang and Armin peered up from his thick university book. 

“Oh, back again—oh! And you brought Historia!” At seeing my girlfriend, he shot up, putting his book down and excitedly bringing over the sign-in sheet. 

“Hey,” Historia nervously smiled, taking the clipboard and writing down her name. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear, glimpsing up at me, waiting for me to break the ice or do something to make it a little easier. 

“Yeah, I figured Ilse would be super excited to meet someone I’ve been meaning to bring here,” it was hard to say it. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t want Historia here, but mostly because nobody else ever came here with me. 

Sasha knew better than to barge in and accompany me. And everyone else—except Armin, too— didn’t know besides her. 

Well, Historia did now—she was going to be the first person to come in. 

“She will! She has been asking about her ever since I said I met her.” He grinned. 

Oh, that stupid boy.

Ilse was probably just asking any question to keep his attention on her. 

“Alright, let me check you guys in,” Armin went to the computer, speedily clacking away until he stamped the enter button and gave us a nod. 

He went around, giving us clearance into the visitor’s area. 

“She’s in her usual spot. She should be pretty talkative,” Armin assured as we passed through. 

I stopped the moment we went through the doors, taking a deep breath. 

“We’ll be okay,” Historia mustered but I could tell she was just as nervous. 

I exhaled, feeling my shoulders fall and I put on the most casual smile I could as I brought us forward and into the room. 

Ilse was staring over at us, curious. 

I felt relief wash over me—she wasn’t catatonic. 

Immediately, her face went red as she glanced at the window and smoothed down her hair. 

“Hey,” I greeted her, pulling up a spare chair for Historia, “thought I’d bring my girlfriend over like I promised.”

“Y-You didn’t warn me!” She chuckled with embarrassment, probably regretting she didn’t spend more time getting ready. 

“Surprise,” Historia laughed a little, smiling warmly at her. 

“Um—“

“Ilse, this is Historia,” I intervened, introducing her, “Historia, my little sister Ilse.”

“Charmed,” Historia eyed Ilse for a bit before glancing up at me, “you didn’t tell me she was the pretty one.”

“Oh, well, she’s—hey!” It dawned on me and I heard Ilse sputter and start laughing, flustered and hiding her face. 

“Oh, and a cute laugh,” Historia was teasing her and I could tell Ilse found it refreshing. Sasha used to always lightly grill her. 

“S-stop,” Ilse cried out, hiding her face as she gave a crooked smile, too shy. 

“Don’t tell her that,” I snorted, “you’ll only encourage her—Historia can smell fear from a mile away.”

“Sh, you,” Historia nudged me, “I’m getting to know your sister! You might have to watch out, though—she might steal me away with those pretty eyes of her.”

Ilse never ceased to amaze me at how red she kept turning and choking on her own words, hiding herself but laughing. 

It was the first time I saw her so bashful and silly in a long time. 

“Y-Y-You’re horrible,” Ilse laughed, “b-but very pretty, too.”

“Oh, swoon! Be still my heart!” Historia smiled, leaning into me as I wrapped my arm around her. 

“Ilse, are you hitting on my girl?”

“N—m-maybe,” she laughed, easing into the playful mood. 

I lightly squeezed Historia’s shoulder, quietly thanking her for being able to open my sister up again. 

It made me feel at peace—happy and content—to have both my sister and my girlfriend talking and smiling and laughing…

It was the best feeling in the world. 

****

**-x-x-x-**

“Jesus Christ,” I growled, adjusting the collar of my dress shirt, “I feel like you yesterday—having to live by the mirror and shit.”

It felt like our first date, too, when I couldn’t tell whether or not I appeared presentable enough. This time, though, Sasha didn’t come in to practically fondle me. 

Historia was by the sink, formal and sweet. She had already prettied herself up earlier.

“It’s amazing how long you’re taking,” Historia teased, “you didn’t even put on make-up yet you took longer than me.”

“Well, y’know, you weren’t the one meeting the all and powerful and rich father, either.” I glared at myself in the mirror, finding it helpless. 

Not once in my entire life did I ever have to wear formal clothes. The movies made it seem so easy—just throw on a tuxedo and dress, put hair up in bun or let it loose and boom! Done!

Instead, I felt like I was a half-dead gutter rat thrown into a dress shirt and slacks as a joke. 

“Hm, well,” Historia came up behind me, adjusting my collar just right and buttoning up my sleeves to reveal my forearms. 

“I can always put make-up on you? Also, I think you can let your hair down a bit, too,” she murmured, lightly touching the hair piece. 

“I don’t know,” I slumped, “but do whatever. I just want to show your father I’m not some orphan you adopted off the street.”

Historia laughed, taking the clip off and fluffing up my hair a little. 

“I will make you look like a princess.” She joked and I puffed up my cheeks to earn some more giggles out of her. 

“Make me look like Pocahontas.” I demanded as I grabbed the stool nearby and sat down on it for Historia’s sake. 

“I can try,” she rolled her eyes, smiling and grabbing some sort of container of liquid. She squirted it into her hands and began to apply it to my hair. 

“I will give you that New World vibe,” she sassily remarked like she was a gay stylist. 

I snorted and about shook my head, but she held it in place. 

“Now, stay still and let me the work.” She sternly said, grinning more.

And I swore I felt my heart throb at her saying that. 

It made me all too aware of the lack of intimacy between us and how much I craved to bridge that gap.

  
.  
.  
.  


“Oh!” Rod was surprised when I took his hand, shaking it firmly.

“What a firm grip,” he chuckled, staring up at me, “I didn’t expect her to be, well—“

“So dashing?” Historia finished, making it a bit easier for me to smile. 

“Sorry.”

Wait. I shouldn—

“Oh, nothing to apologize for, dear!” Rod smiled, pulling out my chair as Historia sat between us. 

“You’re built to last!” He complimented as I sat down, thanking him as he went to his seat and applied his napkin-bib-thing. 

Oh, wow, that was a lot of forks and knives and two spoons. Okay, well, I at least knew the spoons were for liquids. Hopefully.  
Historia didn’t even have to look at me and know my confusion as she moved all the extra utinsels away from herself, picking up a fork, spoon, and knife from the pile. 

Rod appeared amused and glanced at her. 

“Did you forget your etiquette?” He asked, humored. 

“Not at all, daddy.” She shook her head. 

“I just prefer to eat with what is necessary.” She glanced at me. 

“What about you—do you feel like being fancy?” She was covering my ass as I gave her a lopsided grin. 

“Not really,” I did the same and grabbed whatever fork and knife suited me. 

The servant came back around, noticing the neglected silverware and picking them up and taking them away with the promise of returning with our drinks. 

I glanced around the place and found it almost devoid of people despite being one of the only formal hot spots in Spokane. 

However, Historia and Rod didn’t seem to notice or care. 

They began to chat about markets or whatever. I couldn’t keep up or understand even if I wanted to. Instead, I snatched a small leather-bound menu—Jesus, no expenses wasted, huh?—and was met with… foreign words that I could only assume was French. 

Goddamn fancy people and having to goddamn tote their boats and the—

“Ah! Hungry, are we? Forgive me for stalling us,” Rod caught me off guard as he picked up his own, taking out his reading glasses and humming, “well, I think a lunch combination would be delightful for myself. And you?”

“Hm. Ymir, you like salmon, right?” Historia asked, taking my menu from me and placing it off to the side. 

Oh, was she going to just order for me? 

I smiled. 

“Your control freak side is showing,” I teased and she softly scolded me as her father snickered. 

“Two Saumon Fumé.” She told her father as he nodded, pleased. 

The server came back with our water and took the appetizers and left. 

Never really had a restaurant stick to a specific order of what food you could get…

But it was kind of pointless to try and amuse myself over how different Historia and I grew up, because I was nervous as fuck. My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down under the table. It got so bad that I felt Historia settle her hand on my thigh and gently hold it, trying to ease its restlessness. 

I ceased and turned towards her, seeing her smiling at me. 

This did not go unnoticed by Rod. 

“I can just see it in your eyes,” he sighed, pleased, “you two love each other so very much.”

He rested his chin on the bridge of his hands. 

“You two are so very lovely,” he complimented, earning a positive reaction out of Historia. 

“Ah, but, I do not mean to be rude,” I tensed up, wondering what he was going to say—was he really going to ask Historia about getting the surgery? 

I didn’t want to be grilled about my sexuality, either. 

“What kind of heritage do you come from, Ymir? You are such defined features.”

Oh. 

That was a relief. 

Historia hissed at her father. 

“Daddy, be polite,” she grumbled, embarrassed at his behavior, but it wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to. Old white men wondering why you were so dark was just a normal, easy stroll in the dark. 

“Native American, sir.” 

Rod snorted at my answer, waving it off. 

“Just call me Rod, or daddy if you please,” he huffed, playfully hurt by my formalness. 

My eyebrow twitched. 

Daddy.

Call him—I glanced at Historia and she was withholding a giggle, knowing very well that I wasn’t about to kink her father. 

“Alright, _Rod/ _,” I felt myself ease.__

__He was such a ham of a man with his rosy cheeks and blue eyes under a strong brow. The way his eyes would crinkle with his smile—he was the stereotype of a portly, proud man._ _

__“Native American culture is so rich and observant of nature and its rights, hm?” He asked, taking out a cigar and gingerly rolling it between his fingers._ _

__I guess despite the Reiss’ being so rich they still couldn’t break laws._ _

__“I suppose so,” I responded because we weren’t here to talk about my culture. Plus, it wasn’t like he’d fully understand it in one conversation._ _

__“Hm.” He exhaled, stuffing the cigar back in its golden case as he examined us further._ _

__“So,” he cleared his throat, grabbing the wine he was given, “I understand you’re courting my daughter, is that correct?”_ _

__Ah._ _

__Historia’s jaw visibly clenched at his straightforwardness._ _

__“Well, yes, s—Rod…”_ _

__“Very good, very good…”_ _

__“…Daddy,” Historia warned, because she didn’t want to go through it right now. And neither did I._ _

__“Ah, don’t scold me,” Rod leaned back in his chair, pouting like a child, “I understand you like your privacy and you have your own choices… I only worry as your father… can’t a father worry about his child’s wellbeing?”_ _

__I could tell, too, though, that he was sincere in his worry, but it did nothing to quell the annoyance Historia had for it._ _

__“I can take care of myself… if I need your help or advice, I will ask.” Historia cut him short on the spot, surprising him._ _

__It made me feel…very fucking awkward to be caught in between. It was times like these I was small enough to slump down in my chair and disappear, but all I could do was play with the fork I set aside for myself._ _

__“Well…I was—hm. Kri—hah… I think this is the first time you ever talked back to me like that,” Rod nursed his bottom lip in thought. His mustache twitched left to right as he digested how Historia cut the topic off._ _

__“Well, y’know… I’m always here, too, Historia,” he assured, “and, while it hurts me that you don’t wish for my help… I’m also quite proud to see you stand up for what you believe in, too. Very proud… I know my little girl won’t be bullied anymore, will I?”_ _

__I didn’t know what I was witnessing, but I did know it had meant something to Historia because her hand on my thigh reached out and took my own._ _

__“…I can take care of myself, too, daddy, just you watch,” she smiled, leaning over the table and taking his large, wrinkly hands into her own, “I’m no longer a child… at least not as much.”_ _

__“Oh, oh, oh,” he chuckled, encasing her small hand into his own, patting, “you will always be my little girl…”_ _

__I strained a smile, uncertain as to what I should do._ _

__“You make your old man very proud…”_ _

__I could only smile when they both glanced at me, expectantly._ _

__“Um, me too—uh, pretty excited for that…sumo fo-mee?”_ _

__And I did nothing better but make a fool out of myself when they laughed at my shitty attempt at French._ _

__Go figure._ _


	15. A Mouthful

“Now, behave, Krista!” Rod chuckled, hugging Historia and giving her a bristly kiss on his daughter’s cheek—whiskers making Historia laugh, lightly pushing him away. 

“I don’t want to ground you for being a brat to your lovely girlfriend,” he pulled away, smiling at me. I gave him a bewildered grin. 

Despite the tension at the beginning, the dinner had gone surprisingly… well. Her father did what I assumed fathers did—drink a bit too much and shameless dig for answers to personal questions. 

“Safe trip,” I nodded at him, but I wasn’t spared from his affections. 

“Oh, no, no—get over here,” he waddled my way and in one big swipe he had me in his arms, cracking my back as he swung me about. I groaned as my bones creaked and he laughed loudly, patting my back like how a bear would maul someone. 

“Daddy,” Historia scolded him, coming over and prying us apart. By the time I was out of his grasp, I limply stumbled to my feet, surprised that the man was stronger than he appeared. I could see where Historia got that from. 

“Fine,” he pulled out the cigar he had been craving all evening, “I will be looking forward to seeing Miss Ymir around more.”

With that, he left in his hired limousine. 

We watched from the front of the restaurant as the Downtown life bustled about us with the weekend crowd. 

“You two,” I commented. 

Historia glanced up at me, suspicious as to what I had to say. 

“Spare no expense, do ya’?” I received a sharp elbow in my thigh as I hissed and snickered, rubbing the sore spot. 

“Convenience is the sign of luxury,” she shot but took my hand, kissing the back of it, pulling us out of the banter. 

“I do hope that you didn’t mind him… he—he’s difficult sometimes, but he means well.” Historia explained and I squeezed her hand. 

“It’s fine… but how about we get back to your place? I’m stuffed and getting kind of tired.” It was true—I could feel my body growing groggy from the feast. Historia and Rod insisted that I eat until I was full, and the food was good…and they did insist twice…

“Spare no expense, do ya’?” Historia mocked, smiling as she lightly patted my stomach. I exhaled a labored breath, complete done-in by the meal. 

“Well, if it’s not on my wallet…” I laughed when she smirked, so pleased that she could treat me like a princess. 

“Anything for my darling,” she stuck her tongue out at me as we went to the parking garage, getting in the car, and heading home for a well-deserved nap.

**.**

**.**

**.**

I groaned, attempting to roll away, but that gorilla wouldn’t stop chewing on my arm.

Where he bit I couldn’t feel it anymore—I snorted awake, scrambling a bit, realizing I just woke up, but the damage was done.

My arm—I couldn’t feel my arm. 

I shot a look to my right arm to find it under a sprawled out Historia. 

I blinked, squinting, and glancing at the clock by the table. 

Oh.

It was six now. 

We were out for only an hour or so since we hit the bed. 

I swallowed the tiredness in my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and yawning. 

My hand went over to Historia’s shoulder, ready to wake her so we wouldn’t ruin of sleeping schedules, but I stopped after I took the blanket off of her. 

My eyes lazily stared at what was in her boxer-briefs. 

Once again, the Reiss had made its entrance. 

I released the blanket from my hand and propped myself up on my elbow, ignoring my sleeping arm underneath Historia. 

I just stared at the bulge, wondering if it always happened—guys spoke of ‘morning wood’ a lot but I never really understood why it happened. 

Historia was unaware of my staring as she slept, far off in dreamland. 

I wonder if she was dreaming of naughty things. 

I smirked, glancing up at her face, wondering if she’d answer my thoughts but instead she slightly turned her head, sniffling and going back into her quiet slumber. 

“Historia,” I gently sang to her, trying to coax a response. 

I lifted my free hand to her face, stroking her cheek and temple. 

“Historia,” I brought my mouth close to her ear, kissing the tip of it and then her jaw. My eyes kept staring down at her little problem until it twitched. 

I watched, amused. 

“Mm,” Historia shuffled a bit, turning towards my face. She was still asleep but I knew it wouldn’t be like that for a while. 

“Historia,” I softly cooed, feeling devious as I lowered my hand to cup her hipbone, squeezing a little. 

“Nn,” this time, her eyes were fluttering open as a soft blush was on her cheeks. Her confused, blue eyes gazed into my mine, blinking away the sleep as she licked her own lips, hazy from my antics. 

“…mm, Ymir…” She exhaled, yawning, unaware of what was going on. 

“I thought I was dreaming for a moment,” she stretched as I heard her ankles pop and she gave a pleased smile, rolling fully onto her side to face me, smiling and then she realized. 

Her whole face turned red as her desire was pressed right against my clothed shorts. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, trying to slowly pull away and correct herself, but I didn’t want her to. 

Seeing her flustered and shy… it…I felt myself throb in anticipation as I clutched her hip, keeping her against me. I felt my own cheeks grow a shade darker as I lidded my eyes, giving her my intentions at face value. 

Historia’s eyes widened as her breathing slowed to shallow intervals. 

“It’s alright,” I told her, leaning in to put our foreheads together as I stole kisses from her astonished lips. 

“…is it?” She could barely breathe. 

I quieted her as I captured her lips, feeling her hesitate as I parted her lips, taking her for myself as her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer. 

With her pressed up against my body, I could feel her member pulsate, hot against the fabric of my shorts. 

It made me really nervous to think of it going anywhere beyond that… but I had other things in mind. Things I had been thinking about for the past week, searching for answers until I felt excited…

“Ah,” she whimpered when I lightly grinded my hips against her, feeling her pull back, flushed as she tried to look down between us, watching my hips roll against her. 

Her eyes were concerned and confused, but yearning. 

I doubt she had ever been teased or touched like this in her life. By the way she clutched to the sleeves of my T-shirt as I rubbed against her told me she was all too new to this. 

“I—I—“ she tried but she kept choking on her words so I stopped, kissing her jaw. 

“I—I never—I didn’t think you—“

“It’s okay,” I repeated, smiling as gentle and sweet as I could for her. 

She could only stare up at me, so taken back that she’d experience intimacy. She only nodded, eyes glossy as I moved my hips away to glance down at her erection. 

There was a warm wet spot at where the tip was as I lowered my hand down, gently stroking the taut fabric around it, feeling her hips rigidly and ever so lightly go up. 

I could feel the tension of her as her arms were flexed, trying to not seem too easily affected. Her eyes were shut, mouth ajar as she breathed and hitched every time my finger tip slid across the length. 

The wet spot was growing as I finally rested my palm above her and she lifted her hips off the bed, trying to get more contact. 

I gently groped it, feeling how warm it was as she gulped, holding herself there, frozen, waiting. 

My eyes were glued to her face and I never saw a girl so beautiful or sincere as she was now. She wasn’t bent out of shape and thirsty with lust—she was near tears at being touched by someone she loves. 

Historia was feeling someone for the first time. 

I leaned up, caressing the side of her face and kissing her slowly, nuzzling our noses together as she peered through wet lashes. 

Historia could barely utter a word as I smiled, pressing our lips together, smiling against the loose kiss. Little by little, I felt her smile back, kissing my nose and chin and cheek, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over. 

Lightly, I glided my hand up and down her shaft, feeling her hips keep up with the slow rhythm, going in tempo through her underwear. 

“Historia,” my voice was breaking because I never could whisper gently, too caught up in this moment. 

I took my hand away and she bit her bottom pink lip that I could see it swell pale. 

“Hm…?” She lowered her hips, doing her best to contain herself as she waited for my answer, breathless. 

“Is it okay…if I can take off your underwear?” My hand was already playing with the elastic hem of her underwear. 

She froze altogether and I felt like she would blow right then and there at the suggestion of it.

I felt a cheeky smile come to my face as my fingers latched on the hem, bringing it up a bit and letting it snap back on her skin. 

Her breath caught in her throat as she gave me a dirty look—oh, I felt my body shiver at that glare. She must’ve felt it too because she took me back, eagerly kissing me, making me moan at her raw love as her hand took mine, guiding it into her underwear a little—a gentle but firm approval. 

_Very firm_. 

For a moment, I wondered if I should stop. 

If I was ready…

Seeing her look up at me, desperate and new and full of love, I felt that fear be swallowed down the ocean of affection she made me feel with only a brush of her lips. 

My hand took the base, lightly rubbing it as she let out the manliest grunt I ever heard. I laughed lightly into her neck as she cleared her throat, chuckling, too, as I kissed her neck a bit before pulling away with my hand. 

I had prepared myself for this moment. 

I knew what I had to do—how to make Historia happy. 

I crawled between her legs, standing on my knees as I got her full attention. Historia propped herself up on her elbows, watching, and wondering what I had in mind until I grabbed the bottom of my shirt, lifting it up. 

“Oh no,” she gasped, covering her mouth as she traced the outlines of my abs all the way to my bare chest as I threw the shirt off. 

I felt like a sex God with how she stared, but this wasn’t a time to gloat—it was Historia’s moment. It was me giving her the most love I could muster within my comfort zone. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” she trailed, mesmerized, “Y—you’re so nice looking…”

I grinned, winking once at her and then went to shimmying my shorts off, causing her audibly swallow as I sat naked before her. 

“Oh,” she licked her lips, eyes roaming me. 

“It’s okay,” I told her, leaning up, letting my chest press against hers. 

I didn’t even need to ask as she was already fumbling and clawing at her own shirt, taking it off and letting my naked body press against her torso. 

Her hands didn’t even ask for permission as they cupped my chest, groaning as she kissed my neck, overwhelmed. I couldn’t complain—she was gentle as her hands roamed my body. 

But, I was a little surprised that she didn’t fondle my chest more. Instead, her hands went back around, grabbing and groping at my ass. She gave an undistinguished sound at the handfuls she got. 

I tugged away, untangling from her as she watched, confused.

“I have—I want to give you something,” I told her, running both hands up from her knees to her thighs and then to her underwear.

I didn’t want to lessen the mood and tell her I wasn’t ready for real sex, yet, but I nonetheless wanted to do what I had planned. 

I felt the goosebumps on her lower abdomen as my fingers hooked into her underwear, sliding them down slowly. I couldn’t keep my eyes on hers as they wandered to the bulge, watching the fabric stretch and be pulled until she came out in one spring. 

It was larger than the first time I saw it as its head glistened with pre-cum. It still wasn’t as big as the ones I saw in porn, but it was Historia’s and that’s all that mattered to me. 

I shucked her underwear down and made myself comfortable between her legs, laying down and resting my cheek against her tense thigh, staring up at her member. 

From this angle, I could see Historia’s bedroom eyes as her chest dipped up and down in wait. 

I just had to remember what I saw from all the videos. 

“Y-Ymir… you don’t have to…” she said, voice betraying her words. 

Her hand went down, running her fingers through my hair. I could tell how much she wanted it. 

I leaned up closer, keeping my mouth a few inches from the tip as my hand went up, taking hold of its base, gingerly sliding up and down the shaft, trying to get her to pay attention to what I was about to do. 

I could feel the hardness under my palm—the pulse of her heart as blood coursed through. 

It was all for me. Just for me. 

I kept thinking that as lifted my hand away, giving myself access to the underside of the length, seeing an apparent vein there. 

I swallowed my nervousness as I leaned forward, drawing my tongue out and lightly licking the base and up, afraid of what taste may come, but it just tasted…salty like skin. 

And there was no offensive smell like I heard there was. 

If anything, she smelled lightly of salt and her signature perfume. 

“Oh God,” she moaned, hiding her face behind her hands, panting. 

I did it again but this time I watched as a blossom of pre-cum bead at the head as I dragged my tongue upwards. 

I was scared to get that in my mouth, but it was only from the idea that it might taste like shit. I bit my lip as she peeked from behind her hands. 

I just let it go as I swirled my tongue on the tip as she softly cried out. I felt the taste hit my tongue—salty but sweet. 

It wasn’t bad. 

“Ymir,” she begged as I felt my confidence rear up. I felt like the worst part of it all was done with—the fear of the smell and taste. 

I smiled, nuzzling her against my lips as she strained her lips between her teeth, trying to stay in control, but I wouldn’t have it. 

I wanted control. 

I brought the tip of her into my mouth, careful with the teeth, as I sucked on her, licking the bundle of nerves under the head. 

Historia bucked her hips, eyes in shock as she squeezed them shut with her fists full of bedsheets. 

I lowered on her, taking her as deep as I could until I felt like almost gagging. She wasn’t big and I could take a lot of her in my mouth. I wasn’t afraid of gagging anymore as I bobbed my head, licking, and allowing some of my spit to coat her for better lubrication. 

“Ah,” she was heaving already, inexperienced. 

I sucked on her tip more. My hand fondled her balls as her hips no longer would listen and deeply pressed upward as she bit the knuckle of her finger, quieting her grunts and moans. 

“Y-Ymir!” 

It was no use to deny me of those cries of pleasure. 

I closed my eyes, popping her out of my mouth and bringing a side of her package into my mouth, gently sucking and licking, feeling some of my own saliva coat my lips and leak down my chin. 

My hand stroked the tip in my palm, slick with pre-cum and spit as Historia nearly lost it as her foot kept shaking and she clenched her teeth, gritting out muffled and throaty groans. 

I kept playing with her balls until I was surprised to feel them squeezing, getting tense. 

I glanced up and saw her panting, face completely crimson as she listlessly gazed at me through hooded eyes. 

I lowered my hand and replaced it with my mouth, feeling like a mess with spit and pre-cum everywhere, but it seemed to only egg her on as she didn’t even hold back her pleasure. 

“Ymir,” she whimpered, pressing her member further into my mouth, hips bucking rigidly, screaming for her to release as I felt her member throb harder, her balls clenching, and—

“Hgggk!” I felt some spray at the back of my throat, causing me to gag at the surprise as Historia growled, moaning in a passionate anthem as I opened my mouth, feeling her semen catch against my tongue and teeth in spurts. 

It tasted like salt. Just pure salt as I let it fall out of my mouth, leaking and seeping back onto her twitching member. 

I pulled away, feeling the taste and remnants linger in my mouth as I swallowed the mixture down, licking my lips and wiping the rest on my forearm. 

“Um,” I stared down at her, blushing, wondering if it was any good now that she came. Shyness wasn’t something I usually felt, but it hit me so suddenly that I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, glancing away. 

“So…was it good?” I asked, hearing her pant. 

I finally took another good look at her. 

Historia was plastered against the mattress—sweaty and disheveled, gripping the sheets for dear life. Her member was already lowering with its messy victory. 

Her eyes only gave me a tired blink. 

With one big, shaky exhale, she melted and died into the sheets, closing her eyes and finally letting her head hit the pillow, completely exhausted and out. 

I snorted, laughing as I sat back, gathering the blankets for her and putting them over her naked body. I made sure to get up and steal a warm and damp washcloth, cleaning up wherever it was wet. 

Historia stole it from me and put it over her limp buddy. 

“…was it?” I tried again but I didn’t get a reaction—Historia was spent.  


I felt like a champ—a perfect OHKO. 

“I will take that for a yes,” I snickered more, getting up to take care of myself—shower and brush my teeth. 

A very warm feeling was in my stomach—a great relief that I never thought I’d feel. 

A loving hold and thought that I overcame something—a fear that I thought that’d never stop plaguing me.

**.**

**.**

**.**

I woke up alone around ten PM.

I groggily got up, feeling my sex ache as I stood, limping a little as I went to the bathroom, changing into a fresh set of PJs and wandering out of my room, searching for my girlfriend. 

I felt afraid—remembering all that she did to me—and the fact I fucking came a little over one minute (totally was not counting). 

I was scared she’d realize how much she disliked it and would run, and that I’d be alone again. Without Ymir. 

I padded my way down the hallway, hearing cartoons playing on the TV as I stopped at the end of the hall, finding Ymir under a blanket with tea nearby, looking snug. 

Ymir saw me almost immediately and smiled. 

“Hey, you’re up,” she opened her little bundle of blankets, “just watching cartoons.” 

She invited me over and I went over, snuggling up under her arm as she wrapped us up, attention back on cartoons. 

It was awkward for me, though, because I didn’t know what to say as the city played outside of our windows—cars racing, people yelling in drunken cheer, and the bar music wafting up. 

It was all too surreal, really, to think this is what it was like after sex—that Ymir was still here, loving me, and everything was normal. 

I thought—

Well, I was afraid…

I never thought doing that would ever end well. 

“I made dinner earlier,” she said, kissing the top of my head during a commercial break, “put your plate in the microwave if you’re hungry.”

I felt that suffocating warm fuzzy feeling take over me as I buried my face against her shoulder. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked because I didn’t know what to do—I felt so happy. 

“You looked so cute sleeping…plus, y’know, um, you seemed pretty spent after that—“ she chuckled when I poked her, warning her not to speak of my spectacular performance. 

“Shut up, _Mouthful._ ” 

“HEY!” 

I loved Ymir so much.


	16. Falling In The Falls

“I’m sorry for calling you like this.”

“Oh! No, it’s fine! I love coffee anyways!”

I chuckled, nodding. 

“I just—I don’t have anyone else to talk about this with. I mean, I do—but, it would—ah...”

“Ah, don’t sweat it! Ymir can be as dumb as a doornail!” Sasha giggled, leaning back into her chair and glancing around the place. 

“Yeah…”

Sasha gave me her attention as a pot of tea was brought over to us with complimentary cookies. I didn’t mind giving Sasha my other cookie as she devoured them, face radiating joy. 

“Y’see… I… I never been with… a girl before…” I didn’t know what to say—it was embarrassing and at the same time a little scary. Admitting that seemed like I was one step closer to revealing myself. 

I resisted the urge to hug myself, because I knew it wouldn’t hide how I really was and it’d only serve to show I was hiding something. 

“Oh! What?!” Sasha’s eyes widened with cookie crumbs spewing onto the table. 

“What?! Ymir hasn’t bed you yet!?” 

I couldn’t help hiding my face, remembering just how well she did it—it was like right out of a porn. She didn’t spare a single thing from it—she was dirty and eager and—Oh God. 

“Oh! She has!” Sasha barked out a laugh. 

“What is it, then? Did you not get her to come?” Sasha asked, watching me and it didn’t help anything. 

It had been four days since then and the weekend was going to be hitting again and I wanted to be prepared. 

“Well, it’s okay,” she must’ve realized how embarrassed I was as she gave a sympathetic smile, “it’s easy—just do what you like to do to yourself, relax, and be patient and communicate.” 

It seemed so easy to do, but I knew I wasn’t as versed as Ymir and I didn’t want to spend an hour trying to get it right and then Ymir giving up. 

There were so many stereotypes how men couldn’t please women—and I didn’t want to hit that, either. 

I wanted to be just as good of a lover to Ymir as I could. 

“You alright? You look like you’re about to cry?” Sasha asked, pushing the teapot to the side and taking one of my hands into her own. 

“Did she do something to make you upset…?” 

I gasped. 

“No! Not at all! She really made me—“I froze. 

Sasha laughed, snickering. 

“Oh, I see, I see, she really made you feel something pretty, didn’t she?” Sasha patted my hand. 

“That Ymir… she certainly does know how to treat a lady, doesn’t she?” Sasha stared off dreamily before glancing at me and seeing me stare at her. 

“Oh! Oh God! Um, before—we were just friends—“

I laughed a bit, feeling relieved to see Sasha gawk, but I still felt that gnawing nervousness of it all. 

Sasha thought I was a girl—a normal girl, but I wasn’t. I didn’t have experience with a woman’s body except the moment Ymir and I fooled around. 

Sasha sheepishly grinned at her admitting Ymir’s close relationship with her. 

“She told me, don’t worry,” I wasn’t concerned at all. Sasha was a good person and I knew Ymir was too much of a doofus to do anything bad towards me. 

“It’s just… I’m… I’m not exactly knowing of a woman’s body.” I admitted. 

I felt my hand shake as I took my teacup, letting its warmth soothe my body as I took ginger sips. 

Sasha just nodded, waiting for more. 

What if Sasha was—no, she definitely wasn’t. She loved everyone equally. 

“Well… I’m… different than girls.” 

Sasha kept nodding, waiting and waiting and waiting for me to get to the part. I took my hand from the cup and began to fiddle with a lock of hair.

“I’m…” 

I never once told someone about it directly. Except for Ymir…

“I’m… what people call…um, I—I never said this to anyone else…but Ymir, but—I’m—I have a… I’m, um, what people call… intersex…”

Sasha’s eyes widened in alarm as she shot up, gasping and then glancing around at the strange looks she got before slamming back down. 

“What do you mean,” she harshly whispered, staring at me with wonder, “are you telling me that—YMIR HAS IT ALL?!”

I blinked, not expecting that kind of reaction. I felt my constricting throat lessen as I raised a bewildered eyebrow.

“She can please anyone!?” She hissed, determined. 

“It isn’t fair—I was the expert with dicks! Not her!” Sasha slapped the table, sitting back and crossing her arms. 

“She didn’t even ask for tips! She fucking just knew!?”

I frowned, caught off guard once more. 

“…She didn’t ask?” I partially hoped that she hadn’t asked Sasha for help, but it would’ve made this conversation a lot easier if she did—Sasha would’ve known about my situation then.

“What? Not at all!” Sasha gawked. 

“Oh.”

Sasha glared at the table, pouting as I awkwardly shuffled, finding myself more uncomfortable at the fact Sasha was so upset over Ymir being good in bed regardless of the person. 

“So, wait, what did she all do?” Sasha asked. 

I cleared my throat. 

“She…she—um…her mouth…um, did all the work…”

“Oral!? Did she accidentally scrape you with her teeth at least?!” Sasha was leaning closer and closer, seething, desperate to have a hold above Ymir’s prowess. 

“N…No…?”

Sasha collapsed backwards, groaning. 

“It isn’t fair! I worked hard for this!” Sasha whined and huffed, releasing all of her agony over this as she squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her face and then leaning on the table again. 

“Sorry,” Sasha suddenly smiled, completely back to normal, “but, so you were wanting to know how to please a woman?”

“Uh…yes…” I was scared at how fast she recovered, but at the same time it felt great to know that she didn’t seem to mind what I was…   
I was more surprised how easy it came out of my mouth, though, too. Before, I would’ve started crying at the idea of someone figuring me out, but…

“Oh, um…can what I say…stay between us…the part of who I am…?”

“Oh, of course! I wouldn’t tell anyone even if you didn’t say that!” Sasha took my hand again, rubbing the back of it with her thumb. I never had such a touchy friend before, but it made me appreciate her even more because I was always afraid people wouldn’t want to touch me after hearing how I really was. 

“So, did you want to give her head or actually fuck her?” Sasha was all innocent and sweet with her words as she said it, making me squirm, puffing up my cheeks and getting shy. 

“I—I need to know everything!” I squeaked. 

“Okay, well, we might as well make ourselves comfortable!” Sasha leaned back, pouring herself her own cup and thinking deeply. 

“We’ll start with some basics, okay?”

**-x-x-x-**

I walked across the campus, happy the weekend was here and I’d be able to stay with Historia. I had been craving sushi for a while and wanted to hit up that place again—probably go grocery shopping with her while we were out and about.

Ever since we were together, my apartment had been barren—most of my clothes at her place along with forgetting my chargers for my phone and laptop. It seemed the only thing that I could rely on in my apartment was insta-noodles. 

“YMIR!” 

My smile fell.

Holy shit.

Sasha was blitzing down the sidewalk, glaring at me—with agility and grace never seen before, she took off her flip-flops without skipping a beat. 

“YMIR, GET OVER HERE!” She roared. People parted like the Red Sea as she hauled ass. 

“S-Sasha?” I could only raise my eyebrows before she slammed right into me, pelting my face with her sandal. 

“I THOUGHT WE WERE BEST FRIENDS!” She screeched, slapping and jabbing me with her hands and elbows as I cried out, protecting my vulnerable stomach. 

“YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU WENT ALL THE WAY WITH HISTORIA!” She fumed, glaring up at me as her fists kept pounding my shoulders. 

“W-What—how did you know!?”

“She told me everything!” She stopped, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the bus stop and towards the parking lot. 

“What!? What do you mean she told you everything!?” I felt my face redden, embarrassed.

“Everything.” 

If everything really meant everything…

I tensed up, hiding my face by glancing away. 

Sasha huffed but clung to my arm. 

“I am your best friend! Why don’t you tell me these things!?” She grumbled. 

I cleared my throat, trying to adjust my temperature as we went to her car. 

“It…wasn’t for me to tell…” It was true. 

I wasn’t going to out Historia just so I could give my best friend some juicy info. 

And Sasha seemed to mull this over before sighing, defeat yet content with the outcome. 

“I suppose so…” Sasha nodded, swinging my arm in her grasp. 

However, I wasn’t nearly as satisfied with the halt in the topic.

“You haven’t answered me.”

“Huh?” She peered up at me with deceivingly innocent brown puppy dog eyes. 

“How did you know?”

Sasha froze her face in a smile, giggling. 

“No idea! Good intuition—OW!”

I grinded my knuckles on top of her head, sneering with a laugh. 

“Tell me now, nugget, or I will steal your lunch every day!”

“I give, I give!”

**-x-x-x-**

“Took you awhile,” I smiled at Historia as she entered her apartment, not surprised or bothered I let myself in with the spare.

“I had to get groceries,” she sighed, holding a large bag as I got up, relieving her from it. 

“Is there anymore in the car?”

“Oh, no, dear God, no,” she laughed, thankful, “I don’t want to climb anymore stairs that I have to.”

I nodded, walking into the kitchen and helping her put away the groceries, nervous. 

“So…” I began and Historia slipped the last can into the cupboard, glancing at me. 

“Hm?”

“I may or may not have…been thinking of you a lot,” I cleared my throat, turning around to face her. 

Historia blinked and then smiled, flattered as she tucked her hair back and gave me all her attention. 

“I thought… a lot about us, too.” 

So I wasn’t the only one daydreaming of what we did the last time. 

“It’s… it’s nice to know someone is like that for me,” she spoke, walking over and hugging me. I held her back, nuzzling my face near her ear and kissing her cheek. 

“I…this is going to sound trashy,” she exhaled, “but you’ve been making it hard for me to not get excited to see you again.”

“Definitely not trashy,” I chuckled as she pulled away to look up at me, correcting my messy hair, “I feel the same way.”

“Oh…” she couldn’t meet my eyes as her blush consumed her face. 

“Ever since that night, Historia,” my voice was low because I didn’t want her to think it was easy to say—she made me feel so much that words felt too little, “I’ve been… thinking of us.”

This time she glanced up at me and then at the empty grocery bags. 

“I… I don’t think I bought anything… you know, um… the things…for safe sex…” The more she talked the lower her voice went in embarrassment. 

I felt myself stiffen as my cheeks burned. 

I grabbed the box out of my pocket and slapped it on the counter. 

Historia’s eyes were glued to it as her eyes widened in realization that I had planned ahead. 

“I already bought them…”

“O-Oh.”

She stared. 

“You bought…Magnums?” 

I bit my cheek. 

“Y-yeah.”

“Oh.” This time she seemed to radiate with a bit of pride. 

I was relieved, because I felt bad for calling her small the first time. 

Thank you, Sasha, hoping she’d somehow develop telekinesis and hear it. She really knew how to make someone feel special. 

Who knew buying a certain brand of condoms would make someone so pleased.

“Um… I guess… we should take this…elsewhere?” Historia took the box, reading it the back and staring at the brand name. 

“I mean,” she finally sighed, worried, “do you think it’ll fit at all, Ymir? I know that this brand is meant for… bigger things, but I’m not exactly big—“

“Historia,” I gritted, stealing the box back and rushing around the counter and towards the bedroom, yelling over my shoulder, “you never sucked your own dick! You don’t know how thick it really is!”

Now that made her shut up and race after me, scowling me before giving me an almost smug smile. 

I didn’t get too far before being tackled and dragged down onto the bed with blonde hair in my face and mouth and giggles flooding my ears. 

“You’re just trying to butter me up,” Historia snickered, kissing my forehead and intertwining her legs into mine. 

“Oh, I promise you,” I finally whipped my head out of her locks, looking up at her, “you won’t be the one buttered after this!”

“W—Ymir!” She laughed, disgusted at my reference but kissing my mouth quiet. 

“Condoms sort of keep the bread from being buttered.” She whispered, biting my bottom lip and kissing me deeper, trying to pull me under her influence. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I let her take me, surrendering into the sheets as she straddled my lap, kissing my cheek and lips. 

Her hands found their way back to my chest and she felt them up like I didn’t expect her to. I whimper slipped past my lips as she had the cheekiness to smirk against my cheek.

“H-Hey,” I grumbled, trying to regain my cool kid points, “just because you asked Sasha about what feels nice…doesn’t mean you’re a sex Go—ahdd!” 

Historia laughed, slapping my hip and possessively gripping it there. 

“Sh.” She told me and oh man—that controlling voice so didn’t fit her, but goddamn it fit to my liking so fucking well. 

She didn’t even seem fazed that I figured out how she got her information. All she did was touch and kiss and bite me. 

She was so much more different than the first time where she didn’t know what to do. She was giving me pure confidence and dominance and it was making me hot. 

“Let’s take this off, okay?” She must’ve saw that I was just staring at her as she pulled away. Ever so lightly rocking her hips once before dragging her hands up my sides, tugging my shirt off with. 

I lifted myself up and helped her pull it off, leaving me in—

“Wow,” she smiled, fingers going over the center of the lacy bra. It was the only piece of lingerie I had in my whole wardrobe amongst the sport’s bras and boxers. 

“Is your favorite color red?” She asked, giggling, leaning forward and kissing me again. 

With every brush of her lips, I fell deeper. 

I was intoxicated with her touches and smell, knowing very well that we were going somewhere. 

“I will take that as a yes,” she nuzzled our noses together, “and it’s a very good color on you.” 

Oh, I didn’t need to be told that—my stomach rolled at the words, though—but I could tell it was a good color on me by how her jeans were getting a bit tighter. 

I took a deep breathe.

I felt ready, hands lowering towards her jeans, but her smaller hands took mine, guiding them away, keeping them to myself as her hands went back to my chest, teasing me. 

“Not yet,” she whispered, kissing my nose, “let me feel you… you didn’t exactly give me a chance to do that the other time.”

She smiled at me and I couldn’t help but return it. 

“Someone cut that short,” I retorted because I was losing my edge, feeling less and less in control the more her hands groped at me. 

Historia shook her head, shushing me again with more kisses. 

But, her hands were impatient as they began to finger the straps of my bra, slowly following them back to the clasp.

Idly, she toyed with it. 

“Can I?”

I could feel my stupid breath choke in my throat. 

“Y-yeah…”

I was ready, but anticipation was a bitch. Especially when Historia asked with those lidded blue eyes...

“Please, do.” I tried to give her my classic smirk but it was faltering.

She chuckled, fiddling with the clasp longer than she should have until I felt it give and slacken. 

“Are you comfortable with this, Ymir?” She asked, taking off the bra as she kissed my neck, biting it gently, but slowly building it up until I felt her sucks stinging the sensitive skin, knowing full well what she was doing to me— marking up her territory. 

It sent chills down my spine to feel her be in control. I had never felt this before.

“Yeah, I’m just, you know…” I schooled my stutter as I tried to tell her how I felt without sounding like a complete loser.

I laced my fingers into her hair, rubbing the back of her head, holding her close to my neck, coaxing her to continue as I felt myself squirm.

She latched herself there as I felt tongue and teeth working on me. I barely could hold back a whimper when her teeth became merciless.

 

My hands went low, dragging up the back of her shirt, hoping she’d leave my neck a bit. It felt nice but it was rough, too. 

“I just want to feel you,” I shuddered, hearing my own weak whisper as she pulled away, trying to help me take off her shirt, but the angle was so awkward that all I ended up doing was getting her caught in her own shirt.

“...Ymir,” she giggled, arms tangled up with the shirt bunched up around her head, “is this how you got all the girls?”

“Gets them every time.” I joked as I finally got the damn thing off of her. I had saw them before but this time I was actually given the time to admire them instead of rushing to please her--God, I truly did love her.

“H-Historia...”

“What?” She asked, putting our clothes off to the side to find them later. 

“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” She stopped what she was doing, concerned, and I felt so safe around her. I could tell by the way she looked into my eyes that was putting my comfort above everything else.

“N-No… it’s not that… I just…really, really…” 

She listened to me, waiting for my answer.

“Really…really…really…”

She raised her eyebrows when I smiled before giving me a sly look.

“Really, love you…”

She giggled, crawling on top of me again and kissing my cheek.

“I love you, too, goofball.” Her hands were back at my chest, pinching my nipples as I squirmed, groaning and giving her a look—why was she stalling?

“Oh, wow,” she breathily teased, eyes lidding, making her look seductive as fuck, “you’re really hot when you’re being good.”

My hips bucked upwards, grazing her under her underwear as I shakily and sharply inhaled. 

Sasha had never dominated me before. In fact, she didn’t know this is what I liked—nobody did. Not even me until just fucking now. 

How the fuck did she do that?

Her eyes shined impishly as she lightly rubbed against my sex, feeling how damp it was growing. 

I could stand watching her anymore as my hand shot down between us, cupping her and gently stroking her. I saw the flash of pleasure on her face before she pulled away, taking my hand from her and kissing its palm. 

“Not quite yet.” She kissed my index finger before licking it and then enveloping it in her mouth. 

It felt like someone dumped hot water down my whole body as I could only watch her tease me. 

She let my finger go in and out of her mouth, sucking, daintily licking the tip and swirling her tongue around. 

“Hi—Historia—“I wanted her to touch me, feel me, and bring me closer—anything but tease. 

She popped me out of her mouth, but she—she fucking—I could only watch as a whine escaped my throat as she leisurely drew her tongue between my fingers, lapping away at the space between.

When she saw my reddened, helpless face, she must’ve felt sorry because she pulled away, giving me back my hand and rocked her hips into mine, pretending how it’d be here soon enough. 

“How’re you feeling?” She asked, bringing her mouth to my chest, nipping and licking at me. 

“T-T-Truthfully?”

She paused, running her tongue over her lips.

“Yeah.”

“I want you to fuck me so hard, Jesus Christ, Historia, I don’t care how just do it.” I covered my face with my hands, groaning. 

“Just stop teasing and get to fucking.”

Historia couldn’t help but turn just as red as me as she nodded, clumsily getting off of me and sliding off her underwear. I watched her member lightly spring out as she grabbed the condom box, ripping it open unceremoniously and grabbing a packet. 

Oh God.

I laid there, biting my lip, and trying to chill myself down. 

I was getting so fucking desperate for her. I needed to get my act together. 

I quietly counted in my head until I heard a curse.

“E-Everything okay?” I asked, glancing over to see the condom ripped.

“…was that your dick that did th—“

“No,” she nervously laughed, “my finger nails.”

“Oh,” I joined her, awkward and tense as well, “at least…those aren’t going up me?”

We both gave each other a relieved look that we were just as edgy as the other. 

She threw the ruined condom away and opened another packet, grabbing it and trying to put it on, but—

“Kind of… uncomfortable…” she grimaced. I leaned over and saw she was putting it on wrong.

“Here,” she gave me the wasted condom and I threw it away.

“At this rate, we’ll go through the whole box,” she sighed, feeling embarrassed.

“Nah,” I smiled, crawling to the edge of the bed and grabbing another, tearing it open and plucking it out. 

“Here,” I motioned as she turned to face me, watching. 

Just to help her, I leaned forward first, licking her shaft and then sucking on the tip for good measure. She immediately clutched the bed sheets, grunting as I put the condom on her in an easy roll. 

“Y-You sure I’m your first…regarding this…?”

I laid back down on the bed, slowly pulling my underwear down to my knees and crossing my legs, watching as she leered between my legs. 

“Sasha showed me how, once,” I told her and she didn’t need much more of an explanation as she came over, getting me to spread my legs as she took off my underwear, slowly, and then examining them, seeing how wet the inside of them were. 

“Don’t do that,” I grumbled.

She put them down as asked and slipped between my legs, trying to kiss me, but she was so short that I had to meet her half-way, giving her small, passionate kisses. 

“I never saw you this shy,” she pointed out and I bit her bottom lip for it. She yelped but then snickered as I felt the tip of her brush against my folds. I released my hold on her lip as she pecked my disgruntled frown.

“Sorry,” and she leaned away, glancing between my legs as she adjusted how she sat on her knees. 

“Um,” she was losing momentum the more she glanced between us, “I… I might actually…be very terrible at this…or maybe not…?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, I might be terrible, too…but, it’s an adventure, right?” I was barely able to hide the anxiety running up and down my spine.

She gave a hesitant nod.

Carefully, she lowered her hand, holding herself as she scooted closer, guiding herself where she needed to be. I wrapped my legs around her hips once I felt her insert the tip. 

It was odd—but at the same time not all too different than a vibrator. Except it wasn’t hot and that another person was right there. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. I lifted my hips, bringing her all the way in as she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling territory she never ever did before. 

Her hands clutched my sides, anchoring me to her as she slowly and firmly began to thrust into me, leaning a little, staring off in bliss. 

But, unlike how I thought it’d turn out, I felt something—I felt her shift until my breath hitched. 

Together, she made us feeling something as I began to go at her pace, moving my hips to her rhythm.

And I realized I wasn’t as afraid anymore.

“…Historia…”

“Y-Ymir,” she locked me into a kiss the moment I gave the room to. She made me feel warm and divine like molten glass. 

She made me feel everything at once, and nothing was left to yearn.

My legs were wobbly and weak as they couldn’t hold onto her anymore, too burnt in passion as they stomped on the bed, digging their heels into the mattress, trying to find leverage as we went faster. 

I stomped and moaned until I fell over the edge.

The edge of her.


	17. Epilogue

With bad luck and an exceptional aim, an object went flying from the bridge and down into the roaring falls below, rattling in bitter agony at the end of its life.

“Ah!” Historia quickly peered over the edge, surprised.

Immediately, the baby began to wail loudly, upset that its rattle did not get returned immediately. 

“Look what you did, Fen,” Historia sighed, going over to the stroller, pulling out a binkie from a compartment and giving it to him. 

“Boy has a good arm! Don’t you, son-son?” Ymir grinned, stopping the stroller to lean over it, peering down at her calmed boy. 

He had big golden eyes, freckles for days, and a big puff of hair on top of his head. For an eight month, he was doing pretty great—definitely was going to be mom’s little baseball pro. 

“Oh, you won’t be laughing if he threw our car keys down,” Historia plucked the keys that he had in his hands.

“Oh! Hell no,” Ymir gasped, grabbing the keys and tucking them into her pants, sighing, “I think I would’ve lost my shit.”

Historia snorted, shaking her head and walking beside her wife and son, glancing over at them, finding her face melt into a smile. 

Ymir caught it.

“What—why you smiling stupid—wait, are you thinking of it all over again? You do this every time on our walk.”

“I can’t help it,” Historia sniffed, tucking her arm into Ymir’s, “every time we come to this bridge, I remember how this all happened.”

Ymir chuckled, humoring Historia.

“We both were in a bad place,” Ymir began to list off what Historia would long-windedly say, “we got into each other, you came out of the closet, twice—one being a lesbian and, well, the Reiss… Oh, and we finally went to the bone zone, and we were idiots and forgot to put the condom on right—“

“Yes, forgot to pinch that little bubble,” Historia tapped her thumb and index together.

“— and then we got this bundle of joy.” Ymir motioned to Fenrir who was happily gurgling, spitting his binky out and chirping away about some baby nonsense. 

“Yes, son, yes,” Historia responded to his talking, making him talk louder, squealing and motioning about with his hands, very occupied with the binky he was holding. 

“You’re the boss,” Ymir chimed in. 

“Ah! There you are!” A voice came from the other side of the bridge. 

“Hey!” Ymir quickened her pace, making car sounds for Fen. Historia walked hurriedly behind and went in to hug Ilse. 

“How was your classes?” Historia rubbed Ilse’s shoulder.

“Great! Th-There’s a really cute boy in my class,” she bashfully admitted until Fenrir went to wiggling about, squeaking for her attention, “o-oh! But not as cute as my neph, of course!” 

She crouched down, kissing his rosy nose, earning a grin from him. 

“Damn skippy.” Ymir huffed.

“So, where’s Annie?” Historia glanced around for the blond. 

“Oh, she said she was going straight home,” Ilse shrugged. Oddly enough, the two had become friends by being the least rambunctious of their big circle of friends.

Plus, as Ymir said, they were big helpless nerds—the kind that swapped study tips and hung around to help each other out with difficult subjects. 

“Said she was tired because some girl keeps trying to barge into her apartment… I don’t know.”

“She should call the cops,” Ymir scoffed.

Ilse only gave another shrug. 

“Will you be able to come to dinner tonight, though?” Historia asked as the group picked up on walking again. 

“Yeah, Rod is insisting to meet you. I swear, all he does is coo and bend over backwards for Fen, and then grumps that he never got to properly meet the family,” Ymir sighed. 

“I don’t think he understands how our family is.”

Ilse laughed, nodding. 

“Yeah. They’d eat all the food and make him poor. Oh—Fen! No!”

And the binkie went falling in the falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading Falling In The Falls! 
> 
> At first, it was meant to be a short seven chapter story and much darker! But, I'm so very happy with how it turned out, and I really hope that people who're like Historia, or similar, or even like Ymir, have found it to be worth relating to. And that it brought light to how it is to live in a judgmental world where labels can be rather harmful. 
> 
> So, again, thanks! It has been a lovely journey with you!
> 
> P.S. My other commissioned story, Across the Alley, is a off-shoot continuation of Falling In the Falls, but the main character is Annie and a strange, drunk woman who keeps ending up at her door. You should take a peek~


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